


Turnabout is Fair Play

by orphan_account, TheTaxidermyPlatypus



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: M/M, Original Character - Freeform, Sam has an awful fiance, average sam and max esc cartoon violence, don’t let sam/oc scare you, lots of gay pining, sam just overall being a good boy, takes place about 6+ months after 305, this is explicitly sam/max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTaxidermyPlatypus/pseuds/TheTaxidermyPlatypus
Summary: Following the events of The Devil’s Playhouse, Max is dumbfounded after finding out Sam and his girlfriend are getting married. Not only is Sam’s girlfriend ill-tempered and pompous, but wants to make sure Sam never sees Max again after the wedding. Max must figure out how to keep his best buddy in his life, while also figuring out some unwelcome feelings of his own. Sam/Max





	1. Chapter 1

Max was there when Sam proposed to his girlfriend of four months. 

They were eating lunch at Stinky’s, the usual greasy display of burgers and what the menu called “fries.” Sam picked the tomato off of his burger carefully tossing it to Max, who caught it in his gaping maw. “So, what’s on the menu today, Sam? Double homicide? Incest cult? Wild and reckless abandonment of social ethics?” 

Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath. “I’m going to have to take a rain check today, Max... I’ve got something special planned for Vanessa and I.” 

Max slumped into his faded red leather seat, so only his eyes and ears were visible above the table. “God! Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa! Honestly Sam - she’s not the second coming! What’s the big deal?! Can’t you blow her off?” Sam smiled at this, and Max could tell he was hiding something. “C’mon Sam. What could possibly be more important than upholding the fragile valence of good and evil?” Sam normally would have shot back with a comment about Max being more of a chaotic neutral than good, but today he didn’t argue. 

“I’ll show you.” He reached inside his ever expansive coat pocket and pulled out a small box. 

“Sam... you… you aren’t serious are you?” Max shot up, his mind racing faster than his mouth could move for once. 

“I think tonight’s the night, Max.” Sam said, quietly. The lagomorph paused, unsure of what to say. Sam surely noticed, finding it unusual that he wouldn’t come back with a sarcastic comment about how all weddings are a sham and how he would never get married anywhere but a funeral home for ironic reasons. Realizing his own break from normal character, Max quickly hid his shock and disapproval. 

“Well? Lemme see that rock!” Sam opened the box to reveal a modest silver band with a near microscopic diamond. Dainty, delicate, quite the opposite of Sam himself. “Jesus, Sam... you obviously want her to say no.” Sam shut the box and sighed. 

“Well you know what they say; two months salary.” 

Max laughed maniacally. “Well I hope to god your dick is bigger than that ring!” His usual crude humor might have been considered suspicious to anyone who hadn’t known Max as long as Sam had, but this kind of banter was far from out of place.  
“Oh, you of all people should know...” Sam paused, stopping himself short. They might be closer than most couples but there was a line, if faint. They sat in silence for an eternal moment, until a grumpy waitress broke them out of a haze. 

“C’mon boys, you just gonna sit here and chat or are you gonna pay for all of this?” Her half burnt cigarette flapped in her mouth as she talked. Sam as usual pulled out his wallet to pay, and as he did, he noticed someone through the window. 

“Ah shoot, Max; it’s Vanessa! If she sees me in here she’ll freak! I’m supposed to be on a paleo whatnot diet.” They both stood abruptly, shimmying out of the booth. “Just put it on our tab!” Sam shouted as he ran out the door, the welcoming bell tinkering behind him, Max in tow. “What tab?” The waitress yelled, a moment too late. 

Halfway down the block Sam stopped, a bit winded. Max dusted off his white fur, displeased with the coat of dust worked up in their mad dash from Sam’s girlfriend from Vegan Hell. 

“Since when do you care about appearances, Max?” Sam asked, remembering a case they had taken in Puerto Rico, when Max had dived into a dumpster behind a questionable strip club claiming that if he was going to get aids, this was the way to do it. 

“Are you kidding, Sam?” Max grinned, “My luxurious coat has to be maintained at all times. The way I see it, at any moment I could be snatched up and taxidermied, so I would like to look my best.” 

“You crack me up, little buddy.” Sam scuffed up Max’s fur on the top of his head lovingly, and Max might have leaned into his touch just a little too much, because Sam withdrew his hand quickly. Suddenly, there was a screech from down the sidewalk.

Everyone’s head simultaneously turned to see a woman marching at full speed, her shiny black pumps clicking angrily. She was tall and thin, with pronounced cheekbones accentuated by her hair pulled back in a sleek, seemingly flawless ponytail. Her small frame was widened by a square navy blazer, paired with a matching blouse and pencil skirt. “Sam!” She marched forward until her high heel clad toe tips touched Sam’s bare feet. “What in the name of our lord and savior are you doing running away from me like that?!” She planted her hands firmly on her narrow hips, examining the sweating dog’s every movement.

“I-I’m sorry sweetheart - I, uh, just got a call from the commissioner and we had to run!” Sam stammered. Max nodded in agreement, enjoying lying to this unsightly pterodactyl of a woman. 

“Oh Oh, I’m sure you did. Because that definitely explains why you have a french fry sticking out of your coat pocket!” Sam looked at his feet in shame. 

“I’m sorry love... Max and I just thought it would be nice to get lunch.” Vanessa directed her cat-like stare to max, saying nothing with her mouth, but everything with her eyes. She softened visibly at Sam’s apology. 

“Honeybunch,” she said uncharacteristically softly, “I’m only doing this because I love you. You know that, right?” He nodded, smiling weakly. She hugged him, her red stiletto nails digging into his back like knives. She let go of him, and Max stiffened as Sam took a deep breath. Oh no. Was he really going to do this here? In front of him?! 

“Vanessa?” Sam started to kneel, and Max’s stomach tightened. “Would you do me the honor...” Vanessa cut him off. 

“-OhmygodshUTUP! This is NOT happening!” She squealed as Sam pulled out the ring box. 

“Vanessa, will you...” She snatches the ring box, opening it quickly, her ecstatic smile turning into a frown. 

“You do know the rule about two months salary?” Sam chuckled softly, his hand migrating to his neck.

“Yeah, yeah I do...” She put the ring on herself, examining it from every angle. “Well... you’ll just have to make up for it with the wedding, darling.” Sam stood up slowly.

“I suppose I will.” He was beaming. 

Max turned away, he felt like he was going to be sick. 

“That’s a yes, everyone!” A few stragglers clapped as they walked by on the busy sidewalk. Vanessa had whipped out her phone and was taking pictures of her left hand from 19 different angles. Sam stood patiently waiting for some sort of response from her. Max couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Sam, are we going home soon? I do recall we do have some actual work to do.” Sam snapped out of his daze. 

“You’re right little buddy. Let’s go. Vanessa, are you alright if we leave?” Max crossed his arms angrily, annoyed at Sam’s compliance to this woman’s ridiculous relationship rules. 

“Mmhmm….. yeah, sure.” She was still looking down at her phone. 

“Alright Max. Let’s rock and roll.” They walked away together, Max longing to say something about Vanessa’s bitchy habits, but for once not wanting to ruin a moment of Sam’s pure happiness. 

“Can you believe it, Max? I’m an engaged man!” Sam almost skipped as he walked, but max sulked. If he had pockets, his hands would be in them. 

“No, Sam. I can hardly believe it.” Sam turned around, his mouth pulled into a thin frown. 

“What’s wrong, little buddy?” Sam looked down at Max with that sweet, concerned look only he could give. Goddammit.

Max kicked at a stone as he walked, purposefully slow. “...What do you even see in her, Sam? She’s... kind of a bitch.” 

Sams eyebrows furrowed. “No, no - she’s just moody sometimes. She’s really a doll when we’re alone.” Max looked at the ground. 

“What’s so great about her?” Sam stopped, looking directly at Max. 

“Well... she’s a great cook, she’s successful, she has the most beautiful brown eyes...” Max felt his heart shatter in his chest; he couldn’t hear Sam struggling to come up with more things he liked about Vanessa. 

Beautiful brown eyes... He vividly remembered a night in Philly, two years ago, when Sam had come home just a little too tipsy and kissed Max right on the mouth, sloppily gushing about Max’s “beautiful brown eyes.” In that moment, it had made him feel invincible, but better yet, loved. Now he wondered if it was just something Sam had said in a drunken haze, something he would’ve said to anyone in that circumstance. It made him sad, but more importantly angry. Maybe he would sleep with his back facing sam tonight, or maybe he would strangle Vanessa with her own perfectly straightened hair; who knows. 

“Please don’t be like this, Max... if you really got to know her, I know you’d love her. She can just seem a bit harsh to people she doesn’t know.” Max decided to drop the issue. It wasn’t worth pursuing any further, Sam had made up his mind. They walked in silence for a moment, neither of them thinking of anything to say. Sam finally broke the tension.

“So, do we actually have anything to do today, y’know, work wise?” Interested, Max wracked his brain trying to think of which case they were supposed to be working on. “Alien orphans?” Max asked hopefully. “No, no; we wrapped that one up last Tuesday. It was something boring,” Sam paused, in thought, “Oh! That’s right, missing zebra from the zoo.”

“What clued you in?” Max slowly regained his witty sarcasm. “Well Max the fact, that it’s standing right over there mauling that old lady might’ve had something to do with it.”

They watched for a moment ,before realizing that the logical thing to do would be to help in some way. “Alright Sam, I’ll take the zebra, and you get the smack down on the golden girl!” He bounced off in the direction of the ruckus before Sam could object. Max was already wielding his pistol, shooting it haphazardly into the air. “Max!” Sam shouted into the air, “They do want the zebra back alive!” 

“You should have told me that before I got it into a chokehold, Sam!” The small old woman was inching away from the active crime scene, her eyes wide watching the three foot rabbit beat the ever loving shit out of a rogue zebra. Sam intervened, pulling Max out of the fight by his ears, still kicking and flailing wildly. “STAY DOWN BITCH!” Max was plopped down at a safe distance, nearly foaming at the mouth, putting his gun back into his (censored for commercial reasons). 

Sam tenderly helped the old woman to her feet. “Well thank you, young man.” She reached into her purse pulling out an unwrapped cherry candy covered in cat fur, then pressed it into Sam’s hand. “Don’t spend it all at once now!” Sam sniffed at the candy suspiciously as the woman hobbled away, hips creaking loudly as she went. 

“Now, about this zebra...” Sam examined Max’s handiwork, an unconscious pile of black white and red all over. “When he wakes up can I ride him back to the office? Sam please!?” Sam massaged his temples and shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder what gets into you.” 

“Heroine, Sam; Heroine.”


	2. Chapter 2

After returning the mostly intact zebra to a frustrated zoo keeper, it was about time to call it a day. 

Riding in the DeSoto during the last hour of daylight back to the office, Max almost forgot about Vanessa, marriage, and the ever growing knot in his stomach. His ears blew in the wind as he hooted and hollered, catching the odd glare from moms pushing their babies in strollers down the sidewalk. Sam laughed so hard he swerved slightly, earning a middle finger from a 40ish year old businessman who he almost hit dead on.

Before they knew it, the two of them were already on delipidated ol’ Straight and Narrow. The familiar rank smells of booze and hobos greeted them as they passed Sybil Pandemik’s ever changing storefront. Sam pulled to a stop in front of their building, and Max hopped out, turning to see his companion not unbuckling his seat belt. “C’mon Sam! The sun’s going down, and unless you want a flying aids rat to descend from the sky and rip out your eyeballs, I’d get a move on.” 

Sam pulled a face, awkwardly adjusting his hands on the steering wheel. “I thought I told you, Max; I’m staying over at Vanessa’s tonight. We are engaged... it might be time to move in together, but I want to take it a little slow... you know how it is.” Max’s shoulders slumped as he pleaded to Sam with his eyes. 

“But tonight was supposed to be B movie night! I had already picked out Attack of the Killer Piñatas!” Max watched Sam switch the DeSoto back into drive. 

“I’m sorry, Max…. another time, I promise. Vanessa would lose it if I blew her off.” Max stood at the curb, looking like a sad, cheap hooker. 

“Alright then.” Sam slowly started to pull away. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He was already gone by the time Max could respond. “Yeah sure, whatever.” 

Max walked into the apartment building alone. The familiar sounds of couples having hate sex and Flint Paper cracking someone’s skull against a wall weren’t as comforting without Sam there to make a witty quip in response. Reaching their door, he got the key out from under their homemade office logo doormat. Sighing, he opened the door, scanning the cluttered mess of an office they shared. A half empty fish bowl with a dead floating beta fish sat on a wobbling desk that had one leg propped up on a stack of law books neither of them had ever bothered to read. A wastebasket overflowing with frozen corn dog sticks and ice cream bar wrappers. A sun faded couch they had found on a curb, with springs sticking out of the middle cushion. A few photos of the two of them together hung crookedly on the wall. Max took one down, of the two of them on their first ever case. 

Sam had taken the photo with his clunky old man camera in front of a petty thief, handcuffed to a light pole. Max ran his fingers over the dusty glass, revealing a clearer image of Sam, smiling goofily at the camera, with one arm behind Max, doing bunny ears with his fingers, which made very little sense, but revoked memories all the same. Max in the picture was smiling to show every one of his gleaming pointy teeth, jumping off the ground so he could be seen in the photo. God, how he missed this. When it was only the two of them, traveling around the world pursuing their naive, young dreams. He would give anything to go back. But things change as the years go by, as they have a habit of doing, and after everything they had been through, their relationship was seeming a little strained, as much as Max hated to admit it.

After the unfortunate series of incidents relating to the Devil’s Toy Box, Sam seemed distant; getting himself tangled up with Vanessa only weeks after they had been reunited. 

The hardest part was when Sam started staying over with Vanessa at night. Max would wake up from a nightmare, and reach for Sam and feel cold empty sheets instead. But he pushed through, and either it was getting easier, or he was slowly going numb to the world. 

Max sat the photo face down on the counter, and plopped down on the couch, promptly burritoing himself up in a blanket. He opened Sam’s drawer of favorite movies and picked out a cheesy rom com. One he would normally love to rip on with Sam, but didn’t currently have the energy to. He wriggled his blanket clad body over to the DVD player and slid in the disc, procuring a large pint of chocolate ice cream and a giant spoon from the freezer as the COMING SOON TO THEATERS message played. 

He just getting into the cheesy movie and pint of ice cream when there was a loud knock at the door. Max sprang from his spot, figuring Sam must have came to his senses, dumped his vanilla ass bitch of a girlfriend, and came over to apologize! 

Throwing open the door however, he was greeted by Sybil clutching a Twilight pillow and several DVDs. “Who’s ready for..” Slam. Max shut the door and went back to his couch. He forgot to lock it however because Sybil just waltzed on in. “What the hell, Max?! Where’s Sam?” Max never looked away from his shitty rom com. 

“Don’t you have some pebbles to fuck or something?” Sybil furrowed her penciled on eyebrows. “Max...” He threw one of Sam’s ridiculous decorative pillows at her head. 

“He’s busy, so you can just make like a tree and fuck right off.” Sybil ignored him and his failed attempt at a witty insult and plopped down on the couch. Max was shell-shocked to find Sybil pausing the film in the middle of a standing in the rain song montage. 

“Max, you do know I have an online certificate in psycho analogy from the Online Community College for Gifted Youngsters. You should tell me what’s wrong and I legally can prescribe you morphine,” Sybil laughed. Max shot her a look, but wondered if he could get away easy if he didn’t give her all the details...

“Sam’s spending the night with his girlfriend, now fiance,” Max mumbled, shoving his head further into the pillow he found himself clutching onto. 

Sybil nodded, suddenly accumulating a clipboard. “Okay… and how does this make you feel?” 

Max rolled his eyes and snatched her clipboard. “It doesn’t make me feel like anything, Sybil. Give it a rest.” 

Sybil furrowed her eyebrows at the rabbit. “I know for a fact that it makes you feel like something, or else you wouldn’t be sitting in the darkness watching a bargain-bin mockbuster of The Notebook.”

Max finally relented, grinning a little at her statement. “Well… you’ve got me there… Fine. I’ll let you play therapist on me if it gets you to unpause my movie.”

Sybil grinned a brilliant smile that he could see even in the dark and adjusted her pointy, red glasses. “Great! Now tell me, Max; how does Sam spending time with his fiance make you feel?”

“Just, you know, left out.” Sybil snatched her clipboard back from Max and started scribbling frantically.

“Elaborate on that. What do you mean?” Max looked away, uncomfortable talking about this kind of thing with anyone, even Sybil. 

“Well, I mean… we’ve done literally everything together for our entire life… he’s always been there for me and now it just… it seems like he uses every excuse to get away from me.” Sybil placed her clipboard on the coffee table, and put her head in her hands. 

“Do you think you could be jealous of her? Sam’s girlfriend?” 

Max scoffed. “I guess in a way, you know bros before monster thots and all.” Max laughed sadly. Sybil sighed, she knew what was going on, she could see it in his eyes. 

“Max, have you ever considered that the reason this is upsetting you so much isn’t him having a partner per say?” 

Max looked up, confused.. Where the hell was she going with this? Sybil put a stable, calming hand on his shoulder.

_“I think your problem is that his partner isn’t you.”_

There was a long moment in which neither of them said anything, the only sound to be heard being the buzzing of neon bar signs outside. 

“Maybe.” 

Another moment of quiet. 

Then Max let loose. 

“It’s just, she’s - she’s such a bitch! A-and I know how she treats him; I’ve seen it! It makes me so mad knowing he could be so much happier with me... It hurts, Sybil, watching her manipulate and torture him. I’ve wanted to tell him for so long but I never could, I never wanted to risk ruining this…. wonderful friendship we have. But now I guess even that’s down the toilet because he’d rather be with her! Her and her stupid hair and stupid pencil skirts a-and stupid brown eyes and-” 

Sybil cut him off before he could get too worked up, placing her hand back on his shoulder. “Max, just tell him. I’m sure he’d understand.” Max shook his head. 

“That’s the thing, Sybil! He would understand. I know he would. Sam is like that. And he might even just leave her if I told him. But… I could never do that to him, because every time he talks about her his eyes just light up and I can tell he’s so happy. I might not be a saint, Sybil, but I couldn’t put him in that position...” He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “It, it feels good to get it off my chest though.” 

Sybil smiled, her expression laced with raw pity. “I’m glad. Now, would you like to finish this movie?” 

Max nodded, picking up the now melting ice cream and offering it to Sybil. Sybil grinned at her friend. “If you had hair, I’d be braiding it right now.” Max playfully shoved her. 

“Over my rotting dead body.”


	3. Chapter 3

About 30 miles away, Sam was arriving at Vanessa’s townhouse in the suburbs of the city. He knocked on the door, bouquet of fresh flowers in hand. Vanessa opened the door, and Sam blinked in the bright light, contrasting the cool September evening. 

“Oh, finally. Look who decides to show up.” Sam held out the bouquet in a sort of peace offering, making up for being late. “I was getting you these.” She smiled taking them without a thank you. “Well? Come in.” 

Sam stepped through the doorway, ducking as to not hit his head. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” Vanessa disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the flowers on a table behind her, as Sam found a plastic covered couch to sit on. He examined the sweet-smelling living space; he had only been here a few other times, and he had mostly just seen the guest bedroom and bathroom. Vanessa was fond of modern art, and displayed it all over her tirelessly spotless living room. An odd blob like sculpture here, an avant-garde photo of just a nose there, the whole shabang. Sam took off his fedora and sat it on a marble coffee table shaped like an Easter island head. 

“So what’s cookin? Hot dogs? Chicken wings?” Sam was answered with a scoff from the other room. Vanessa peeked her head out from kitchen, her eyebrows almost soaring off her face in shock. 

“Are you insane? I’m serving free range quinoa; oilless, butterless, saltless, lightly grilled imitation chicken breast and raw asparagus.” Sam made a face, scrunching up his muzzle and sticking out his tongue. “You want to trim down for the wedding now don’t you?” 

She squealed as Sam snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind lovingly. “Of course, dear.” She wriggled out of his grip. “Sit down at the table, it’s almost ready.” Sam obediently did as he was told. 

There was no more conversation until dinner was ready. Sam idly sat at the table twiddling his thumbs. There was a heavy, tangible tension in the air. Vanessa sat two tiny portions down on the table, and slid one towards Sam. He was about to dig in as she slapped his wrist. 

“SAM. Prayer.” He huffed his breath and sat down his fork, ready for yet another 4 minute personal church service. “Dear, heavenly, holy father. Thank you for this bountiful feast we are about to enjoy. Thank you for this house, and this weather, and this man. We ask that you keep us in good fortunes as the days and weeks and years go by...” She continued on as Sam snuck tiny bites of chicken. Or rather, tofu pretending to be chicken. God.... how he missed Chinese takeout. “Amen.” Vanessa unclasped her hands and began cutting her food into minuscule bites, as Sam attempted to use his asparagus as makeshift Lincoln logs. There was no noise other than the clinking of forks against plates for several minutes before Vanessa started a conversation. 

“You know, my friend Tiffany is also engaged.” Sam raised his eyebrows at the statement, giving up on the asparagus structure. “Her ring was 22 carats. She’s marrying a surgeon.” 

Sam gave a crooked smile to himself, recognizing what she was getting at. He pulled at his suddenly too-tight shirt collar. “Well, that’s good for her.” The food was awful and bland, and left Sam hungry and grumpy. 

“You know, I’ve picked out an amazing movie for us tonight, honey bunch. I know you normally enjoy comedies, but since only one of us has any taste at all, we’re watching La Monsignor de Bleu. It’s a silent French black and white independent film festival short, and it’s won three obscure awards in Finland.” Sam sighed, not looking forward to the confusing mess he was about to be forced to watch. “...Great.” 

Vanessa emptied the rest of her plate into the trash. “Hey, what was your friends name, again? The small rabbit. With the shark teeth.” Sam’s ears perked. 

“Max! You’ve met him before.” Sam smiled without realizing it. Was Vanessa about to ask to learn more about Max? Sam couldn’t think of anything better than his fiance and his best buddy getting along.

“Yes, yes, Max, whatever. Look, Samuel. I don’t want you around him anymore.” Sam stood up from his seat. “Excuse me?!” 

Vanessa carefully placed her almost completely clean plate into the sink. “He just seems so rash and rude and just overall a bad influence. I don’t want it rubbing off on you - you’re already a work in progress.” Sam was more than a little pissed off.

“Vanessa… you do realize we work together, we’re roommates, and we’re best friends, right? You really can’t just tell me to stop seeing him!” She turned around slowly. 

“Yes I can. Because the next time I see you with him, you can have your flimsy ring back. Would you want that? Would you really want me to have to do that?” She was gently dabbing away tears with her fingers, even as she held an emotionless, deadpan expression. 

“Why would you want to hurt me like that, Sam?” 

A rush of emotion filled Sam’s heart as he embraced her nervously. “No! I-I’m sorry, Vanessa. Just, just please don’t cry. We’ll talk about it, okay?” Her tears stopped as suddenly as they started. 

“Good, now, how about that movie hmm?” 

A few hours later the credits were rolling, and Sam was more confused than he had been when the film began. However, Vanessa rose from her seat, clapping. “What a masterpiece of cinema. Bravo!” Sam shook his head, but decided not to say anything. 

“Sooo... what do you wanna do now?” Vanessa moved like a snake onto Sam’s lap. Her blouse slipping off her shoulders gave him a decent idea what she had in mind. 

“W-well, y’know, it is pretty late so I might hit the hay...” She cut him off with a finger to his lips. 

“Oh no, no, no. That won’t do. You see, now that we’re engaged, I don’t see any problem with... you know.” She fiddled with the buttons on his white dress shirt. 

“Oh no, no, I’m quite tired. Really.” Sam tried to wiggle out from underneath her, but she wasn’t budging. 

“C’mon, what, don’t I look good?” She had unbuttoned her own shirt, revealing a lacy bra. Sam swallowed, looking away. “You look amazing doll, I’m just not in the mood.” She was not taking no for an answer though. 

“Not in the mood? You liar, you were all over me earlier. You’re just playing hard to get.” She pulled him into a long, one sided kiss. “Don’t you wanna make me happy?” Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at her. This felt so wrong. 

“C’mon, Sam, please. I know you want to.” She pushed him down onto his back as he squeezed his eyes shut. Just as she was going in with her hands towards his belt, the light flipped on, leaving them both squinting. 

“VANESSA!” It was her father, wide eyed and open mouthed standing in the hallway. Sam let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Daddy, y-you said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow!” She was hastily buttoning up her blouse, and hopping off of Sam. 

“I just couldn’t wait to see my little pudding! Now an engaged woman!” Sam felt out of place and uncomfortable, as he stood, his shirt unbuttoned and fur all mussed up.

“Daddy, this is Samuel, my fiancé.” Sam waved awkwardly, and was met by an evil glare from this rigid old man standing in front of him. The resemblance between father and daughter was uncanny. They both had the same defined cheekbones, and the same piercing eyes. 

“Sam, I think we’ll have to do this another time.” Vanessa was shooing him outside into the cold, unforgiving night. She shut the door without a goodnight, but Sam could hear the warm chatter from inside the house as he made his way back to the DeSoto. 

He sat in the driver’s seat with his head in his hands for a moment before driving off, preparing an excuse for Max, who undoubtedly was still up.

The drive back to the office was long, lonely, and quiet. The empty city streets provided no sympathy or comfort. Every now and then, Sam would see a rat scamper down an alleyway out of the corner of his eye, and turn, half expecting to see his partner, peeking out from behind a trash can or waving from a rooftop. But he was never there, no matter how hard Sam wished he was. 

The street he called home looked much less inviting alone in the night, but the knowledge that Max was waiting for him inside, made Sam’s heart warm nonetheless. He looked up to their window, and was surprised to see that the light wasn't on. 

The entrance was unlocked, so Sam quietly made his way in, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

“Max? Are you awake?” Max froze, lying still in their shared bed. What was he doing here? He heard Sam’s heavy footsteps enter the room, as he tried to lie perfectly still. His ears twitched a bit, as he listened to Sam get undressed, and step into a pair of pajamas that were lying the floor beside their bed. 

The springs of the old mattress squeaked, and the whole bed shifted to Sam’s side as he carefully climbed in, doing everything he could to keep from waking Max. The large dog wrapped his arms around his small partner, without even really realizing what he was doing, and Max rolled over to bury his face in Sam's warm chest. 

“What am I going to do, Max?” Thinking he was caught, the small rabbit tensed, before realising Sam was only thinking out loud. He listened carefully.

“I never saw myself as the marrying type, but here I am I guess.” Max wanted to sit up and scream, then kiss Sam, then scream again, but he kept still, other than the occasional twitch of a foot, or ear. 

Max wished he could lie here forever, nevermind the wedding, or his job, or having to eat. He would just lay here until he died, right here, in Sam’s sturdy arms. 

Suddenly, there was a buzz from the bedside table, and sam rolled over. Max thought about grabbing him and pulling him back down, not wanting to break the quiet moment of sheer bliss. 

The buzz originated from Sam’s phone. A rarely used, clunky old device, who’s first and only contact was Max. Until Vanessa came around, at least. 

The first buzz was followed by three more, it was obviously Vanessa, and by Sam’s irritated sighs, she was pissed off for some reason. Then the phone rang. Sam almost didn't answer, but picked up on the last ring. 

“Vanessa, darling, what is it?” Max could barely make out her side of the conversation, but it was enough to get the jist of what was happening. Apparently, she did not like the fact that he just walked out on her. 

“Vanessa, I was tired and I wanted to go home! I’m sorry.” A pause, and some muffled screeching from the other line. “No, no, it’s nothing you did.” Something about the tone of Sam’s voice told Max he was lying. “Doll, please, don’t be this way.” If Max was right she was crying now. 

“Vanessa, I swear it’ll be easier for me to, you know, once we move in together. Of course you’re beautiful.” Max really wanted to throw up now. Just the idea of what they might have been doing together made him sick to his stomach. 

“Now that’s no way to be, Vanessa. Why would I do it on purpose?” A pause. “Now settle down, my roommate is sleeping right here.” There was a loud screech and Max opened his eyes a tiny bit to see Sam holding the phone away from his ear and grimacing. “Now Vanessa; I told you, I'm not just going to stop hanging around him. He's my best friend for god's sake.” She was about to start bitching again when Max heard the click of the line being hung up, and the phone being sat down on the table. 

Sam rolled back over so he was facing Max, and pulled the rabbit close to him. He could hear his heart pounding in Sam’s chest and his rough breathing as he was hugged like a stuffed animal. Not that he minded. Not at all. This was just perfect. Maybe everything would be alright after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Max woke up the next morning, expecting to still be in Sam’s strong embrace, but he found himself utterly alone.

“Sam?” He called out, expecting the usual prompt answer from another room, but there was no response. He got up, and wandered around the apartment calling out for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found. He instead, found a note on the kitchen table, in Sam’s neat handwriting. 

“Headed out early for wedding stuff with Vanessa, I’ll talk to you later.” Max's heart dropped. Great. Another day by himself, trying to find something to occupy his bored mind. Nothing good ever came from that. 

He poured himself a bowl of dry, sugary cereal and stared blankly out a window. He would go do something today, something productive. Yeah, he would go grocery shopping. Like an adult. If Sam was too good for that than fine. He would get the olives with pits in them, just because he could. He was going to be fine. 

“Fine.” The more he said that the less he believed it. 

Finishing his bowl, and leaving it on the messy kitchen table, he headed to the bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror. 

“You know what, screw groceries.” He announced out loud. “Today. Today is the day. I am going to tell him.” He smiled at himself, sure in his plan. “If he freaks out, then oh well! Everything's going down the shitter anyways so why don't we go out guns ablaze?” He hopped off his stool in the bathroom, and rushed out the door, not bothering to lock it. If someone wanted to take their nasty trashcan full of old wrappers, or their dead fish, they could go right ahead. 

Max’s feet were barely touching the ground as he ran down the sidewalk. If he knew Sam, and he did, they would be at the park a few blocks away. Sam always said he would want to get married there, next to the duck pond. Maybe he would get a chance to, just not with Vanessa. With him, with Max. 

He only slowed slightly passing his favorite hot dog cart. This was too important. By the time he came around the corner leading to the park, he was out of breath. He took a moment to stop and breathe in the only fresh air within 30 miles of their home. This park reminded him of the small town where he and Sam grew up, during those sunny, lazy, popsicle melting summer days of their youth. 

Max first realised how he felt for Sam in a park like this one, twenty years ago. He remembered Sam talking about some girl from school, and the overwhelming urge that took over him, making him grab Sam's face and pull him in for a kiss, later blaming it on a stupid dare. Maybe he could kiss Sam for real today, if all went well enough. As he picked up speed, sure enough he saw Sam and Vanessa, standing holding hands by the very duck pond he had thought about earlier. Max slowed, and watched from a distance for a moment. “This will be easy.” He thought to himself. “Look at them! They aren’t even-” 

Max’s thought was cut off as every hope in his head came crashing down to pieces. Sam leaned in, and initiated a long kiss with Vanessa, wrapping his hands around her waist and picking her up off the ground, spinning her in circles. Max felt his heart crumble in his chest, as every ounce of confidence he had possessed suddenly melted away. Sam looked… happy. He laughed and pointed to the duck pond, probably telling some dumb story. A lump rose in Max’s throat as he sadly watched them converse from afar. Max knew he should look away, but it was like watching a trainwreck. He thought this would be easy, that he would confess and Sam would say that he always felt the same way, like in movies and cheesy romance novels. But that wasn't the case. It was too late. Maybe if he had done something sooner, confessed years ago like he should have, things would be different. But they weren't. 

Suddenly, Sam turned, and spotted Max, making a confused face. Vanessa immediately whipped around as well, glaring down her nose at Max. Sam started to approach and Max froze, trying to suck up every ounce of self-pity he had back into his tiny little body.

“Max? What are you doing here?” Sam speed walked towards his little pal, concern written in his eyes. “Is something wrong?” Vanessa stayed back, watching the interaction take place like a hungry eagle watches mice. Max shot a forced grin in their general direction.

“H-hello, Sam. I am simply taking... A relaxing... Stroll.” His voice had an undertone of angry sarcasm that he didn't entirely intend. He was usually such a good liar. 

“Max? Buddy, is something the matter?” Sam looked concerned. It almost made him feel guilty. Almost. 

Vanessa was approaching now. As she got up next to Sam, she locked her arm in his. “Haven't you heard the news? Sam and I have decided to move up the wedding to two weeks from now so my father can be here to walk me down the aisle. Isn't that lovely?” She sneered at max, and leaned up against Sam, nuzzling her face into his neck. She knew, there's no way she didn't. 

“Oh, it's wonderful.” Max's voice was thick with sarcasm. 

“You see, baby, this is why I don't want you hanging around him. Is he ever sincere about anything?” Sam yanked his arm away from her. 

“Of course he is! Max, don't listen to her, she's just…” 

“I'm just WHAT, Sam?” Her stare was like that of a snakes, cold, unfeeling and deadly. 

“She's... just kidding.” 

Max clenched his fists by his side. “Well you know what, SAM? Maybe she’s right after everything we've been through, maybe this is for the best. You know, why don't you move in with her today? Just pack up and leave me to rot. Or was that already the plan?”

It made Max feel a little better, lashing out in anger. Vanessa pushed Sam back from him a little. 

“You see, this is why I don't want you to hang around my fiance. Heaven forbid your monstrous temper rub off on him.” 

Max felt his blood boil in his veins. “Oh believe me, sweetheart. There are worse things that could rub off on him than my temper. For example, your goddamn coochie!” He smiled maniacally at his own on the spot insult, pleased with her shocked and offended reaction. Sam snickered in the background, covering his smile with his hand. This only fueled Max to go further, it felt like some odd form of therapy. 

Vanessa, though, did not entire appreciate what this was doing for Max’s mental health. 

“How… DARE you. I will not permit the use of such crude insults. You're welcome to use that sort of language with your type of people, but certainly not around respectables such as Samuel and I.” 

Max scoffed. “Oh please, I’ve met crack whores more respectable than you.”

Vanessa gasped. “You take that BACK!” But Max was on a roll now. 

“Oh, I apologize, could you repeat that, I can't quite understand you. But that's to be expected when you have such a huge stick up your ass that it gets stuck in your throat.” 

Vanessa whirled around to face Sam. “Are you just going to let him talk to me that way?” Sam made a concerned face, shrugging. “God, why do I always get stuck with the useless ones!” Vanessa stamped her foot on the ground in a toddler like display of defiance. 

“Don't you dare call him useless. If you wanna talk about useless we can discuss your mother's birth control methods.” 

Sam stepped in at this point, standing between the two. “Now, guys, we can talk this out; there's no need for insults.” Max rolled his eyes. 

“Sam, if her brain exploded, it wouldn't even mess up her hair, and you know that.” 

Sam took on a stern tone. “Max, that's enough.” But Max hardly heard him. 

“I bet the smartest thing to ever come out of her mouth was a penis!” 

_“MAX! I SAID THAT WAS ENOUGH.”_

Max cowered a bit. He had never heard Sam raise his voice like that. Well… at least not directed at him. He looked up to see his partner of so many years, holding Vanessa, who was crying weakly. 

“Sam, I-” Max never wanted to upset Sam, he only wanted to get under Vanessa's skin. 

“No, Max, I think you need to leave.” 

Max crossed his arms. “You don't mean that.” Sam's face was full of regret, but he held firm in his position. 

“Why don't you just go Max. We can discuss this later.” Immediately, Max wished Sam had just yelled. This sort of quiet anger was new, and frightening. 

“Well... fine then. If you really want me to go…” He paused, waiting for Sam to change his mind. But he never did. So Max walked out of the park, resisting the all consuming urge to look back over his shoulder. 

Once he was out of sight he pulled out his cell phone, dialing up Sybil’s office number. “Sybil Pandemik, Professional International Snake Milker, how can I help you?” Sybil’s chipper voice through the phone was more than welcome. 

“You can milk a snake?” Max was very intrigued in the process of milking a reptile. 

“Hey Max! And yes, you can milk anything with nipples.” Max had so many follow up questions about snake nipples, but now didn't seem to be the appropriate time to ask. 

“Can I come over tonight? I might need you to bring back out that therapist clipboard...” 

Sybil squealed excitedly, making Max wince. “Of course, Max!!! But I'm for sure giving you cornrows.” 

Several hours in, Sybil had somehow convinced Max to let her practice smokey eyes on him. He sat spilling his guts in a homemade pillow fort in her dim shop, lit by eerie celebrity based candles. 

“Stop squirming, Max - if I screw up the crease you'll go from sexy receptionist to a trashy 80s hooker so fast.” Max sat as still as possible, while explaining the events of the day, maybe exaggerating just a little for theatrical reasons. 

“You just don't get it, Sybil! She’s the world’s biggest bitch. I don't know how someone can be so extra, and yet so boring.” 

Sybil squinted through her glasses at her desperate attempt to fix Max's eye situation. “Oh no, I’m fully aware. I knew her in high school.” 

Max lurched forward, dragging poor Sybil’s hopeless attempt at a winged eyeliner half way around his face. “You WHAT?!” Max sat his elbows on his knees, leaning in to hear every detail. 

“Oh look what you did, Max. Now it’s ruined.” Max snatched the eyeliner out of her hand and threw it across the room. “TEA, SYBIL, TEA!” She rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, whatever; it's not a big deal. We had some classes together, we were almost in the same general friend group, until my boyfriend at the time cheated on me with her. She's always been rich and stuck up and awful.” Max gasped melodramatically. 

“Wait until Sam hears THIS! Oh god, he’ll break up with her for sure!” Sybil shook her head. 

“Y’know, Max, I think the more you try to tear them apart, the more they want to stay together. And besides, it just makes you look irrational and desperate.” 

Max laughed. “Sybil, you know all too well. Irrational and desperate are the best adjectives to describe me.” Sybil scoffed.

“I think you’re accidentally forgetting violent, dangerous, manic, overdramatic, and tiny.”

They both laughed, reeling in this moment of intimate friendship. 

“You see, Sybil, this is the kind of stuff I miss. If Sam wasn't dating that actual creature from the black lagoon, he would be here, and he would look way better in purple eyeshadow.” 

As if summoned, Sybil’s doorbell rang. 

“We’re closed!” Sybil called out, assuming it was just another customer, eager to have their snake milked. 

“Sybil, it’s me; is Max in there?” Sam's familiar voice was muffled through the door, but Max immediately could read his tone. He was probably holding his hat in his hands, and looking down at his feet, like he did in a state of shy shame. Sybil looked at Max, raised her eyebrows, silently asking what to say. Max nodded, signaling to Sybil that she could tell the truth. 

“Yeah, come on in.” Sam opened the door, smiling as he saw Max and Sybil, conversing on the floor of the tiny shop, surrounded by throw pillows and blankets. 

“Would you mind if I joined you two?” Max turned away, saying nothing, but Sybil nodded. Sam looked at Max and grinned. “Woah, Maxie. You look like some sort of drag princess.” Sam chuckled, examining Sybils mediocre makeup job. 

“It’s drag queen, not princess, Sam.” Max sat with his arms crossed, facing away from Sam, refusing to make eye contact out of spite. 

“C’mon, little buddy, look at me. I'm sorry for raising my voice earlier, you were just getting a little out of hand.” Sybil inched into the background, watching everything unfold, and simultaneously blogging about the entire event. 

“A little out of hand? Sure, Sam. Sure. You should have told her she was a little out of hand when she talked down to me like that. I will not be condescended.” Sam gently turned Max around to face him, holding him firmly still, despite the small rabbit’s best efforts to escape. 

“You made her cry, Max.”

“And?!” 

Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed at Max's indifference. “And, she's my fiance. You can't just treat her like that. I’ll always be around, but you’re just going to have to accept that you don't have sole ownership of me. I get that you're a bit jealous of the attention I give her, but if you want to be a truly good friend, you'll help me through this instead of making everything more difficult.”

Max felt a tinge of guilt. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he was being ridiculous. 

“I'm sorry, Sam, I just... I just don't want to lose you. That's all.” Sam smiled sweetly down at Max, that calming familiar smile that he had fallen in love with over the years. 

“Thank you, Max. I'm glad we could come to an agreement. OH. Also - from now on, we’re going to have to be a bit more... discreet about hanging out.” 

Max cocked his head, confused. “Why? Are we going undercover? Did the Commissioner leave a message while Sybil was painting my face?” 

Sam shook his head. “No, it's just, Vanessa really freaked out about today. She says if she sees us together again doing anything other than work, she's going to break off the engagement.” Sybil’s eyes widened, and she started blogging more furiously. 

“SAM!” Max shook lose of the larger dog’s grip. “And you see nothing wrong with that statement? Nothing at all?” 

Sam sighed. “I’m sure she’ll cool down, but for now, let's just keep it on the down low. Okay?” Max nodded, the new sense of secrecy stirring up adrenaline in his veins. 

They were like Romeo and Juliet, forbidden, star crossed lovers. It was just like a romance novel he would read with Sybil. Was it unhealthy? Probably. But Max loved this kind of unhealthy. Sybil interjected from her bean bag in the corner. 

“Well, if couple’s therapy is over, Sam, I do recall Max making a comment about how you would look in purple eyeshadow.” Max violently shook his head as Sybil snatched an eyeshadow palette from her overflowing bag of as seen on TV beauty products. 

“MAX! HOLD HIM DOWN!” Max jumped on his partner, holding him down by the shoulders on the floor. Sam didn't try all that hard to get free, he could punt Max into the sun if he really wanted to, much less escape from him. Sybil approached, laughing like a mad scientist, purple eyeshadow in hand. “Don't you worry, Sam, I’m going to make you look… _fabulous.”_


	5. Chapter 5

Sam snuck out at around 5 am the next morning after explaining to Max that he had to go tux shopping with Vanessa. Max came back with some quip about how a tux wouldn’t “suit him” and Sam had laughed. 

Now he was making his way down the busy New York street with Vanessa, who was constantly chattering on about what type of suit she wanted him to get. He had no idea what a 38 stitch double collared v-neck breathable pocket square was. He assumed they would stop by a Sears or Macy’s and find something that fit. This was all too complicated for his taste.

When they got to the fancy clothing store, Vanessa immediately began speaking in German to a sleek sales associate with a ponytail and goatee, occasionally pointing at a befuddled Sam. He wished he knew what was going on. 

Sniffing the air, thick with perfume, he repeatedly sneezed, earning a judgy look from some size zero billionaire shoppers pursuing the well organized aisles. All at once he was whisked off and shown a whole array of ugly suits. They all reminded him too much of Vanessa's beloved modern art displays. He asked why he couldn't just get married in his usual semi formal attire. Vanessa laughed cruelly, and handed him a god awful frilly button down. 

“Just try this on, pudding. I think you’d just look fabulous in silk.” Sam winced. There was no way in hell he was going to put this on. 

“Vanessa, you know I would never wear this. It’s just too… foofy.” She made a pouty face. 

“Come on, Sam. When have I ever steered you wrong? This is the one.” Sam, not one to be contrary, stepped into the tiny dressing room with his ill fitting, baby pink silk suit. The pants went up almost to his chest, and flared out in awkward bell bottoms. The suit jacket had frilly lace sleeve cuffs, and the shirt resembled a messy bush of silk. 

He waddled out of the dressing room, stuffed like a sausage into this atrocity, and Vanessa squealed excitedly. 

“Oh, SAM! This will go just PERFECTLY with my bridesmaids dresses, we’ll take it!” Sam grimaced. 

“Okay…. but... aren’t you going to ask what I think of it?” Sam pulled at his itchy, too-tight collar. 

She rolled her eyes. “My wedding day is supposed to be all about me, the one magical day in a girl’s life. No one says that about the groom. I’m sure you’ll learn to love this suit.” Sam would have sighed frustratedly, if he could breath at all. He could barely lower his arms to his sides, much less dance at his own wedding. 

“Darling, credit card.” Vanessa was batting her eyelashes at Sam, holding out a hand expectantly. He cringed a bit when he saw the total bill. He was going to have to beg the Commissioner for a pay raise to cover all of this. But... seeing Vanessa so undeniably overjoyed made him happy, so he complied; Sam handed over his card, however reluctantly. 

Exiting the store, Vanessa's phone began to ring loudly. The contact read “Mummy Dearest”. She picked it up, her voice immediately changing from bored and uninterested to a sort of toddler dialect. 

“Hi, Mummy! Where are you? We’re supposed to meet for brunch!” There was mumbling from the other line. “Are you sure? Today? But MUMMY, I don’t want to pick out dresses with Sarah right now! You can't MAKE ME!” The mumbling on the other side was more agitated now. “Fine, mother, but you don't have front row seats at the ceremony anymore!” She angrily hung up, as Sam looked on, utterly confused. 

“That was my mother..” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“No, I couldn't tell.” Vanessa did not find the sarcasm amusing, making a face that immediately shut down the humorous mood.

“She says we have to go dress shopping today for some dumb reason. But you can't come. It's bad luck to see me in my glory before the wedding day.” 

Sam’s head was spinning; this was all moving so fast. He had always imagined a year or so of engagement before his wedding, but this couldn't exactly be helped. Vanessa turned around in a sharp 180, her stiletto heels clicking down the sidewalk, parting the crowd of people moving in the opposite directions like the red sea. 

He decided to call Max, now that Vanessa was gone. He wanted a brutally honest opinion on this new suit, and if anyone was going to give it to him, it would be his fuzzy little pal. The phone rang once, twice, three times before Max picked up. 

“Sam and Max: Freelance Police! This is Max speaking.” Sam chuckled. 

“Max, I called your cell phone, you saw my contact.” Max’s voice was muffled as usual. He never held the phone up to his face, rather, finding things to balance it on, assuming whoever was on the other line had perfect superhuman hearing. 

“Force of habit.” Max answered. 

“Max you've never… nevermind. Vanessa went dress shopping, and I need your opinion on something. Meet you at the office?” There was a fuzzy affirmative answer, and then a click of the phone being prematurely hung up. Sam laughed at Max's consistent issues with technology, not that he was any better off. 

Walking away from the uptown district, and back towards the beat up streets of his home, Sam passed a familiar ice cream parlor. He thought of what Vanessa would say if she saw it. Probably something like, ‘Wow, amazing how these people waste what little money they have on such crap.’ One day he wished to point out the irony of that statement by commenting on her several expensive handbags, but he knew that day wouldn’t come any time soon. He felt somewhat ashamed, leaving the clean smelling air of uptown for the stench of his own street. He couldn't shake the looks Vanessa and her family gave him when he showed them his shared apartment. The things they whispered when they thought he couldn't hear. Sam shook his head from these thoughts and continued to walk the familiar path back to the office. 

Sam remembered back to how he first met Vanessa, searching a fancy cocktail party for a particularly notorious jewel thief. He had seen her from a distance, and instantly felt… something. 

_She was wearing a short sleeveless dress, ocean blue and covered in sequins. She looked lonely, yet irritated, nursing a martini at the bar by herself. Sam approached her, telling Max she looked like she knew something, but max didn’t seem to hear. If black and white detective movies had taught him anything, the lonely dame at the bar was definitely the thief’s ex-lover, and the victim's sister or something of that matter. He approached her, sitting down to her left and ordered himself a drink._

__

__

__

__

_“Well?” She asked expectantantly. He raised an eyebrow._

_“Well what?” She rolled her eyes._

_“Are you going to buy me a drink of are we just gonna get out of here now?” Sam chuckled, then realised she was deadly serious._

_“O-oh. No, no, I’m sorry, madam, I'm a freelance policeman, and I thought I could ask you a few questions.”_

_She giggled coyly. “Wow, mentioning your profession right away. A detective, sure. Hold your horses, officer, and you'll be in my panties soon enough.” Sam was taken aback by the bluntness of that statement._

_“Miss, I swear… I'm currently hunting down a jewel thief. He was said to be in this bar quite often, and I was wondering if you knew anything of him.” She sighed, turning back to her martini._

_“Well if that's all you're after, I suppose I can't offer you anything.”_

_Feeling bad, and like the opposite of a gentleman, Sam asked her if she'd like to dance. She eagerly obliged. They danced to a Billy Joel song, and kissed on the crowded dance floor._

_They never found the jewel thief, much to Max’s irritation, and Sam remembered little else of the night. He had a few drinks, and woke up in her fancy satin apartment, half naked and fully humiliated. He left his number and a glass of water on her nightstand, and left around 4 am, to find a livid Max stuck in the bar parking lot._

He still hadn't heard the end of that one. Sam was shocked to find just how upset Max was about the failure of the case, but he guessed the end of a 100-something solved case streak would do that to him.

Just 4 short months later, Sam and Vanessa were engaged. It felt like everything went by in the blink of an eye. Sam kept telling himself he would be ready when the wedding rolled around, and that everyone felt this nervous. But he was starting to doubt himself. 

Back at the office, Max had assembled Sam an unrequested audience of Sybil, Dr. Momma Bosco, Agent Superball, and surprisingly, Jurgen. Sam was hiding in the bathroom, refusing to come out. 

“C’mon now, baby, it can't be that bad.” Dr. Momma Bosco was currently the only one trying to be remotely supportive. Everyone else was just chanting “FASHION SHOW! FASHION SHOW!” While Max beat on the door. 

Sam finally awkwardly shuffled out, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. There was a moment of silence, and then a sea of laughter. Max fell on the floor, clutching his stomach. 

“YOU LOOK LIKE A GIANT PINK USED CONDOM SAM!” 

Dr. Momma Bosco came to get a closer look, stifling laughs. “Oh, Sam... I can fix this up, I… I swear if we just - oh, forget it. This is hopeless, darlin’.” 

Superball was quietly taking pictures to make into memes, despite Sam's protest. Jurgen went on a tangent about what an atrocity this was to the high fashion industry and how hadn’t taken his monthly 20 minute break from his office desk job in Hell to see Sam look like a spit-out clump of cotton candy. 

Max finally got control of himself. “God, Sam. Don’t worry, I’m going to help you fix this. There is no way I'm letting my best friend get married in this glorified dishrag. We’re going to Macys pronto.” Sam sighed in relief. 

“Great idea, little buddy. I don't even care that Vanessa will be mad; I can't stand this another moment longer. Give me a moment.” He half waddled back into the bathroom, changing back into his usual attire, smiling as he listened to his friends and Jurgen laugh and converse. He was very concerned about the sharing of the photos Superball took, but if it meant his friends were happy, it didn't matter in the long run. 

Macy’s was much more Sam’s speed. The moms rushing around with their kids picking out tiny overalls and socks, the boyfriends trying to remember what perfume their girlfriend asked for, and the bored store employees pretending to listen to some middle aged woman complain about their lipstick selection. 

Max pulled him along to the suit department, picking out a few different options, and then sent Sam off to the much more comfortably sized fitting rooms. The air was thick with that “made in China” smell, that reminded him of being a child with his mother in stores like this. He changed into this new suit, crisp navy blue in color, paired with a matching bow tie, suspenders, and a top hat that Max said would “make the look”. 

He looked in the mirror. Firstly, he thought it was much more comfortable, but mostly, much more attractive. He looked clean and professional. 

“Are you done yet, Sam?” Max impatiently called from the hallway. 

“I'm coming out!” 

Max snorted at this.

However, when Sam emerged from the dressing room, Max’s heart hit the floor. 

He looked… Handsome. 

Really handsome. 

Like himself, just… so much more polished and confident. There must have been a tangible pause, because Sam turned to Max. 

“So, how is it?” Sam adjusted his tie. Max swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Sam... you look… amazing.” 

Sam smiled warmly. “Thanks, buddy!” Max wished Sam wanted to look this good for him. Honestly, he thought Sam always looked amazing, but now it was just overwhelming. It was all too real. 

“You HAVE to buy this one, Sam. This is really it. I don't care what it costs.” 

Sam laughed nervously. “Believe me, whatever this costs, it’s a fraction of that other suit. Which I will be returning.” The teenage employee that had been watching from a corner approached them. 

“Ready to checkout?” She chewed her gum in loud smacks, making her mumbled language almost impossible to understand. 

“Yes, ma'am, we are indeed.” Sam was obviously ecstatic, his words oozing an extra bit of politeness. At the checkout the teenage girl struggled with the scanner, but sam just smiled into space. 

Max, on the other hand, had several comments for this poor intern about how it didn't exactly require a college education to ring up a few items at a Macys, attempting to climb over the counter and show her how it was done. 

“Sir, PLEASE, control your husband!” The poor exasperated employee begged to Sam, who didn't entirely register the statement, or just didn't argue, but put a large hand over Max's face, who mumble screamed in protest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a short one.

Vanessa, when finding out about Sam's little rebellious outburst of buying a different suit, lost her mind. 

Sam was trying to console her on a public subway, while simultaneously apologizing with his eyes to everyone who gave them dirty looks. 

“Why (sniff) would you (sniff) RUIN our wedding like this!” She dotted at her eyes with a black and blue hankie Sam had offered her. “I put so much work into matching the flowers with the bridesmaids dresses and the tablecloths, and you have to go and throw everything all away. I might as well fire the Christian Gospel slam poetry group because you'd rather have a shitty Def Leppard cover band instead!” Sam felt that now would not be the best time to mention that he would greatly appreciate that change. 

“Van, doll, I just needed a suit that fit. Ok? The other suit didn't fit. I had Momma Bosco look at it, it couldn't be altered!” She threw the hankie on the dirty subway floor.

“THAT sloozy wouldn't know alterations if they sat on her face. You are going to MY tailor, and wearing the suit we picked out. That’s final.” 

Sam crossed his arms, looking sternly down at Vanessa. “I just don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.” She leaned forward, trying to look intimidating. 

“Don't you take that tone with me, Samuel!” The subway was slowly coming to a stop, and people were scrambling to get off the train and away from the arguing couple. 

“Vanessa… I told you. Please just call me ‘Sam.’ I didn’t imagine that would be such an issue for you.” They were both standing up now, almost yelling at each other. 

“Oh, please. You expect me to take ‘Sam’ as my wedded husband at the altar. Get used to it already.” Vanessa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

Sam inhaled angrily. “Why do you get to decide my life? We aren't even married yet!” The subway doors opened and people crowded in and out, but the argument was not slowing down, to the passengers’ distress. 

“WELL, maybe we just shouldn't get married then!” Vanessa screeched, stamping her high heel on the ground. 

Sam immediately furrowed his brow in anger. “You know what, Vanessa?! That sounds like a great idea!” 

Vanessa gasped, leaned back, and slapped him across the face. 

A silence fell upon the subway car, as Sam held his face tenderly. 

“Alright then.” 

He didn't hear Vanessa begging him to come back as he stepped off the train. He had no idea where he was, or which station he was at, all he knew is that he had to get away from, her. 

People bustled through the busy station, giving Sam dirty looks for standing in the middle of a moving crowd. He pretend not to see Vanessa, banging on the subway window, mouthing, “YOU GET BACK HERE!” through the glass. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the train doors close, and the train click along the track with a livid Vanessa inside.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam pondered how he was going to get home. 

He could call Max, but the thought of the small rabbit attempting (or rather, not attempting) to follow basic traffic laws made him shudder. He examined the map of the stations, trying to decide which way was north. He had never been good with maps. Half way through Sam and Max’s case of bringing that tall sasquatch back to the circus, Sam’s inability to comprehend all the maps they gathered led him to simply calculate the distance between each landmark by the number of Snuckey’s the two of them passed.

Sam began to wander in the general direction his gut told him was toward home, trying to identify New York’s landmarks. A crumbling apartment building here, a billboard for divorce lawyers there, but nothing was clueing him in. Eventually, the cloudy sky above him opened up into a sprinkle of rain, and then a downpour. “Great.” He thought to himself. “I might as well go ahead and break out into song.” 

Finally, after wandering around for what seemed like ages, he spotted a familiar storefront, advertising a going out of business sale. With a breath of relief, he started to jog in the direction he now knew was towards the office. 

Towards home. 

Cars sped past him, kicking up dirty street water in his face. His crisp white dress shirt now resembled a napkin soaked in coffee. His apartment building shined like a beacon of light in the darkness a few blocks away. He could almost feel the warmth of their sputtery radiator on his face; the smell an overcooked microwave burrito. The light of their apartment was on, signaling Max must have been home. 

Sam rushed across the busy street, cars beeping at him as he went, but he hardly cared. The rain was beating down on him, making it difficult to see much other than the flickering yellow light of the apartment buildings lobby. Finally approaching the entrance, Sam flung open the door, and as the little bell tinkled, the sound of the rain became muffled as the heavy glass door shut behind him. A few people turned to see who was entering. The prostitute from a few doors down, who was arguing with a young runaway couple over a noise complaint. A sweet old lady who was shuffling through her recent mail, a stack of bills all stamped OVERDUE in blood red letters. A tired mechanic, using the smudged glass of a window to look at himself, and wipe oil smudges from his face, all while a cigarette burned dimly in his lips. They all recognized Sam, and gave a concerned, yet approving nod at his dripping presence. 

The elevator dinged, and the door opened, revealing that no one was inside. The thing had been malfunctioning for years, and it was a gamble if anything to step inside, so Sam took the many flights of stairs to his messy, yet welcoming apartment. He knocked on the door, realizing he didn't have his key, and prayed Max was not napping or listening to heavy metal music in the shower. Luckily enough he wasn't, and Sam heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking from the other side. It opened, and Sam was greeted with a blast of warm air, and light from inside. The apartment was bright compared to the grim, poorly lit hallway. Max stood in front of him, taking in Sam’s pitiful appearance in full. Sam stood, dripping wet in the doorway, leaving a small puddle around his feet. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in. You look like death warmed over Sam.” Max quipped, as he stepped aside to let Sam in, slamming the door behind him. 

“Well, I've had kind of a rough day.” Sam snapped, which was quite unusual of him. He removed his wet jacket, and threw it over the side of the bathtub, along with his black and blue striped tie. Max returned to his claimed spot on the couch, identifiable by a small, rabbit sized indent in the cushion. He was watching some obscure movie from the 70s, and working on a box of Oreos. 

“What made it so awful?” Max asked, throwing a cookie in the air and catching it in his bear trap mouth. He didn't want to seem too concerned, as that would be suspicious. Max cared about little else than vigilante justice, junk food, and Sam. 

“I'm really starting to think Vanessa is just a real snake of a woman. I… I think I might be starting to get cold feet, and not just because of the rain.” Sam sat down next to Max, not caring that he was leaving a damp spot on the couch. It was stained anyways. 

Max nodded, turning off the movie he was watching. Maybe this was his opportunity to influence Sam into dumping his worthless girlfriend. “You see, Sam, this is what I've been telling you ever since that night you met her.” 

Max didn't remember much, but he remembered this like it was yesterday. Or rather, like it was 4 minutes ago, as he had trouble even recalling the events of yesterday. But this, he wished he could forget. 

_They were on a theft case of some sort, and received a tip about a local bar, where a party was being held. They entered, jarred by the loud music and crowded, stuffy atmosphere. Max immediately jumped on random women, demanding to know where the thief was, but none of them knew anything of use to him._

_Just as he was about to suggest they leave, and hunt down the giver of the false tip, Max noticed Sam was no longer by his side, but sitting next to a girl, with long strawberry blonde hair, clad in a particularly tasteless slutty dress. The two laughed and conversed as Max watched, heartbroken from afar. Sam was surrounded by a plethora of empty shot glasses, and the girl slapped the bar, demanding two more from an overloaded barkeep. Sam downed his, but Max noticed Vanessa dumping hers discreetly into a waste bin by her feet._

_Narrowing his eyes, Max decided there was something odd about this situation. A normal, rational person might assume that the girl might not want to drink, but want to appear cool in front of a new suitor. Or perhaps she was pregnant, or had already had enough. But Max was no ordinary rational person. Besides, shots were expensive at this fancy upscale bar, so Max approached with his tiny clenched fists at his sides._

_“Hey, lady, sorry to interject here but my friend and I really should get going. Now.” She laughed, slinging an arm around Sam's shoulder._

_“And what's it to ya, little fella? Go find your own fun. Go eat some carrots, or something, Doc.” Max had seen red, grabbing a strangers martini and throwing it on her in a blind rage. She had screamed, her mascara and winged eyeliner running down her face._

_“And WHO do you think you are?!” The girl had pushed Max back with her well manicured hand._

_“I would think I’m this man's partner, now if you would skedaddle back to your whore hole, we can all leave mostly unscathed. Kapeesh?” Sam at this point interjected, more than slightly drunk off his ass._

_“E-excuse me, Maxie, but this pretty lady would like to take me back to her apartment, so you can go ahead and drive home, hmm?” Sam clumsily tossed Max the keys to the DeSoto._

_Max stuttered, “Sam, what's wrong with you?! Let’s GO!” The girl had chuckled evilly, removing Sam’s suit jacket with ease._

_“Oh, I think he's made his choice. Run along now, little bunny.” She took Sam by the hand, leading him towards the door._

_“SAM?!” Max desperately called, feeling strangely alone in the crowded bar. Sam turned around to try and respond to his friend, but was dragged out the door before he could get out any coherent words._

_Not trusting this woman, Max had followed discretely from a distance with his Luger at his side, ducking into alleyways whenever she looked over her shoulder. He followed them all the way to an upscale condo, where they went inside. Sam leaned against the doorframe, obviously trying to protest in some way, but was dragged inside anyways._

_Watching through an open window, Max watched as this woman threw Sam haphazardly on a well made bed, and then bustled around the room, ducking in and out of Max’s field of vision. She came back to the bed after a few moments, pulling off Sam's shirt and tie. Max felt as if he was watching a trainwreck, but there was something odd about the way she was going about things. She had more of the air of a serial killer than someone about to have not completely consensual sex with a 6 foot dog._

_She slipped something into Sam’s coat pocket, before rolling him off the bed onto the floor, kicking off her shoes and tights, turning off the light, and crawling into the bed herself. Max ducked down beneath the window as to not be seen, confused and bewildered, then took the long walk back to the bar parking lot; His only company being a single hobo and a few stray cats, as he curled up and fell asleep in the driver's seat._

Snapped back into the present day, Max listened to Sam go on and on about his experiences. Max could listen to Sam rattle off an entire phone book, there was something about his voice and way of speaking. 

Sam was becoming increasingly frustrated, expressing 4 months of pent up anger. He spent a lot of time trying to think of alternate words for bitch and skank, as he was still quite the gentleman despite the rage in his voice. Max interjected in the middle of Sam's sentence. 

“Sam... if she really makes you that unhappy, then leave her.” There was a quiet moment, and Max legitimately thought of just grabbing Sam by his wet collar and showing him what real love felt like. After some consideration, he decided it might be a bit unwelcome at the moment. 

“Because, Max, if I left her now, I would never forgive myself. She may be… awful, but she's human, and can have her heart broken like anyone else.” As if the statement needed confirmation, Sam's phone buzzed on the coffee table, blaring his bluegrass ringtone. The caller ID read Vanessa, with a liberal amount of heart emoticons. Her contact picture was one that Sam had obviously not picked, a slutty mirror selfie. Sam hesitated, but answered, not abandoning his usual politeness, even in the face of difficulty. 

“Hello?” Sam answered, even though he knew who it was. He put the phone on speaker, and Max was quietly touched by this display of trust. 

“Samuel… I mean, Sam, baby, I'm so sorry. It is so unlike me to lash out like that.” Sam rolled his eyes, glad Vanessa couldn't see him. 

“I'm... not so sure about that, Vanessa. This isn't the first time.” He heard her pitiful sniffling on the other line, and his heart softened a little. 

“I'm just… so frustrated with all this wedding crap. This happens to everyone, Sam, I promise. I’m not trying to be cross with you, so don’t be cross with me.” Sam sighed sympathetically. 

“Vanessa, dollface, I’m not cross. I'm just... unsure... that we’re right for each other. I don't want either of us to be unhappy.” Vanessa was bawling, and Sam felt the guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. She cried at everything, but this still felt like a knife to the heart. 

“Sam, please, I’ll even let your bunny friend be your best man instead of my cousin Eduardo. I’ll do anything Sam! Just please don't leave me!” Sam was struggling to keep firm, he wasn't going to deal with this anymore. 

“Vanessa, no! I’m hanging up now okay?” Before he could press the end call button Vanessa shouted tearfully. 

“SAM, I’M PREGNANT!!!”

Sam dropped the phone, staring blankly, not saying anything. 

Vanessa's voice echoed from the floor. “Hello? Sam? Is anyone there?” 

Sam sat with his head in between his knees. Max picked up the phone, shaking slightly. There was no way in hell. 

“Vanessa, this is Max, stay where you are. I’m coming to drop kick you in the stomach.” Sam snatched the phone. 

“Vanessa, are you… are you sure?” There was a pause. 

“Yes, Sam, I’m 6 weeks along.” Sam covered his face with his hands. 

“Vanessa this is… this is something we’re going to have to talk about in person, okay? I just… give me until tomorrow, alright? I need to think some things through.” 

There was another moment of tension-filled silence. 

“So to be clear, you aren't leaving me right?” Sam hung up before answering. 

Max put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. He felt that Sam was trembling slightly. He felt uncharacteristically awful; he hated seeing Sam like this. He hated seeing Sam look like he didn’t know what to do. Sam always knew what to do.

He had a sneaking suspicion Vanessa had done this on purpose. 

“Max, what am I going to do? I can't be a father… I'm… not ready for this.” 

Max didn't quite know what to say, he was at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life.

“You'll - you'll be fine. We’ll work this out.” Sam stood up from the couch, walking slowly to the bedroom. 

“I'm… gonna go lie down.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sam refused to come out of the bedroom for almost a day and a half. Max expressed his concern to Sybil, who brought homemade meals to slide under his door. Every now and then, Max would knock on the door, asking Sam if he would like to come out and play a board game, watch a movie, or take on a case. The answer was always a concise, muffled, “No.” 

Vanessa called multiple times every hour, leaving messages begging for Sam to come meet her, but no one ever answered. Finally, nearing the end of the second day, Max had grown tired of sitting around the office torturing ants with a magnifying glass. He threw open the bedroom door, to find Sam in the most pitiful state he’d ever seen him in. 

He was curled up on the messy bed, clutching the stuffed rabbit Max had gotten him as a gag gift years ago. 

“Sam? Are you alright? Or moderately functional enough to form sentences?” Max peeked through the doorway cautiously at the sight of his friend. Sam rolled over in bed in response, bags under his eyes. 

“How am I ever going to face her, Max? I can't believe… I should have been more careful. I've ruined her life. She wanted to get her masters degree, start a business... it's all over now.” Max sat down on the bed, trying to think of something to say. He never had a shortage of sarcastic comebacks, it was this kind of situation that stumped him. Sam was the one who handled more the more delicate stuff, but Max guessed Sam wasn't about to talk himself out of this. 

“Sam, I.. I think you just need to talk to her.” Max couldn't believe he was actually encouraging interaction between Sam and Vanessa. But… he'd rather see them together then Sam unhappy. 

“I am going to screw this child up, Max. I can't be a father!” Max put a hand on Sam's shoulder. 

“Of course you can, you big lug. You basically raised me.” 

Sam chuckled. “Max, we’re the Same age. In fact… you’re a few months older than me, dummy.” Max smiled, happy to see Sam cheering up, even slightly. 

“Maybe physically, but im still mentally a demented 5 year old.” 

Sam sat up slightly. “Maybe you're right... I’ll talk to her. Being in this nasty room isn't doing anyone any good.” Max nodded frantically. 

“If you need to, you can practice putting diapers on me.” 

Sam smiled with his eyes. “I think I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.” Max sprung up from the bed happily. 

“Good Sam, because I actually had to think about grocery shopping while you were in a depressed haze, and you know how well that would have gone.” Sam slid out of the shirt he had been wearing for going on three days now, and picked a newish one off the floor. Max’s eyes must have lingered a moment too long on Sam’s bare chest, because he raised an eyebrow askingly. 

“OH, by the way; Vanessa called.” Max intergected, quickly ducking any questions he mght get. “I figured, how many times?” Max picked up Sam’s phone from the counter. “48 and one angry text.” Sam snatched the phone, and his eyes widened. 

“Holy sweet baby Jesus in a cradle from Sears, Max, why didn't you tell me?!” Max shrugged. 

“I figured you didn't want to be bothered for a while. And, walking from the office to the bedroom seemed like a lot of effort for something as measly as your well being.” Sam played a few of the messages out loud and he tried to adjust his tie in the mirror. 

_“Sam! Where are you?! You said we could talk about this tomorrow! Guess what, Sam. It’s tomorrow. Please, Sam. I don't want this child to be a bastard. Don't skip town.” Click._

_“SAM, my mother took me out maternity clothes shopping. Don't you wanna see me in cute dresses with the belly cut out? Maybe we can make twins.” Click_

_“Okay, Sam, my father wants to take you out job hunting. Baby formula is expensive, and we can't expect to live off a freelance detective’s salary. Please come by and see me, Sam. Don’t ignore me.” Click._

The last message was from half an hour ago. “SAM!” Max scratched, jumping up onto the dresser by the mirror, and standing on top of it, catching his balance. 

“There is no way, pregnant or not i'm letting her find you another job. You're the yin to my yang, the ketchup to my hotdog, the herpes to my Venezuelan prostitute. I would solveway more cases without your pesky... ethics, but I would get arrested WAY more often. I won't survive in jail, I'm too beautiful!” Sam laughed sadly. 

“Well, little buddy, I think it might be best to just humor her for now. I'm going to meet her. There's no point in hiding forever. I'm just terrified of what her family is going to say.” 

Max shook his head. “Because you really are just such a miscreant, aren't you, Sam?” His words were dripping with sarcasm, but the look in Sam’s eyes suggested he took it a little too seriously. 

“...Well, wish me luck!” Sam grabbed his fedora and jacket off the coat hook propped against a wall as he went out the door.

“PROMISE ME YOU'LL NAME IT AURORA VON WILDEBEEST!” 

Sam’s hearty laugh echoed through the empty corridor as the door shut behind him. 

He speed-walked out of the building and down the street to the nearby subway station, but not before picking out a large pink teddy bear and box of “I'm sorry” candy. He wondered if there was such thing as an “I'm sorry for getting you pregnant! xoxo” greeting card. 

The subway ride seemed longer than usual; stepping out of the busy station, he felt himself almost sprinting to her address, which was made difficult because of the teddy bear, now lightly damp with New York street puddle water. 

He rang her doorbell, slightly out of breath and was met with the stern face of her mother, gaunt and disapproving.

“Oh. Look who finally decides to show up. Hey, sweetheart; it's the father of your bastard child.” Vanessa poked out from behind the door frame. Sam half expected her to be huge, obviously pregnant, even though he had seen her just days ago. He offered her the teddy bear and chocolate and she graciously accepted.

“Oh Sam, these are wonderful, come in come in!” Every member of her family was there, the wedding WAS only four days away now.

There were her three older sisters, all almost carbon copies of Vanessa in similar outfits. Her grandmother, ancient, blind and deaf, staring blankly at a corner of the room from her wheelchair. All her uncles and aunts and cousins, clamoring at Sam’s feet only to receive a slap on the wrist from their respective parents. Kids did love Sam. Maybe he would be a good father.

Before he could protest, the entire family moved like a unit out the front door and began to disperse in different directions. He caught fractions of conversations about shopping and brunch, what else, but Vanessa and her father stood in front of Sam, firmly examining him from head to toe. 

“So, daddy, should we start with your friends at the law firm?” Her father solemnly nodded, but Sam winced. He hated lawyers, and certainly didn't want to be one. He voiced no disagreement, as he still felt terribly guilty, and let himself be tugged away to the bustling business district of the city, doubt growing slowly in his head. 

Meanwhile, Max was back at the office, coming up with devious ideas. There was something off about Vanessa's pregnancy announcement, and he was determined to figure out what it was. So he shuffled through Sams drawers, where he found a letter to Vanessa he never sent. Sam was all about classy romance, but after Vanessa had compared his first letter to a ransom note, he stopped sending them. He read the address out loud. 

“165 Hampton Avenue, hm, alright.” He slipped the letter back into place after writing the address on his palm. He pulled out an ancient map of the city, crumpled on their desk, littered in solved cases. 

 

Following it to a tee, he was surprised to find himself in the right location. He was usually very bad with directions, but the sheer determination driving him seemed to take over. 

He located her classic white suburbs townhouse, walked up the front steps, and slipped his hand through the mail slot, straining to feel around for the lock. Finally after a moment of struggle, he was in. The door clicked, and he opened it with ease. He cringed at the horrid interior design, walls lined floor to ceiling with ugly art. 

“Ugh, I could really give these people a lesson in complementary colors.”

The whole family was out of the house, much to Max's convenience. He wasted no time getting to snooping around. He had a gut feeling, that was very rarely wrong. But this didn't stop him from gathering a few good pieces of blackmail. 

For example, Vanessa the devout vegan kept hot dogs in her fridge behind copious amounts of lettuce. And her father was cheating on her mother with his personal assistant, according to a receipt for lingerie definitely not in her mother's size. 

He walked around the house, taking in every detail, trying to commit it to memory. He looked through dressers and closets, shuffling through stacks of high end clothing. He left no stone unturned. But again and again he only found ugly modern art, jewelry, and junk.

Getting frustrated, he went into the kitchen, searching for something other than organic kale chips to snack on. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a door, slightly cracked open. He wondered how he had missed it before.

Tip-toeing in, he examined his surroundings. This must be Vanessa's bedroom. A large bed sat in the center of the room, surrounded by dressers of neatly folded clothes, and a large vanity. The carpet was thick and soft, and a fluffy rug covered a good portion of the floor. The entire room was themed in black and hot pink, a jarring combination when overdone. A photo of Sam sat on her dresser. A photo Max had took on Sam's birthday a few years ago. He was more than a little upset that Sam had given it away. 

Max rustled through drawers, not caring that he messed up her delicately organized knick knacks along the way. He opened one drawer, full of underwear, and took it upon himself to throw a good amount of them in a carelessly neglected still burning fireplace. 

Smiling at his handy work, he noticed a small flap at the bottom of the now empty undergarment drawer. Lifting it, he found... photos. Suspicious photos, taken with a shaky camera. 

He would have to tell Sam, but he would need the proof. Grabbing the pictures, he decided to quit while he was ahead, and leave before anyone came snooping around. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the front door opening, and panicked. Frantically looking around, he jumped into a woven laundry basket, staying deadly still, his whole body tense with adrenaline. 

“Hello? Who’s in here?” A voice, called from the hallway outside the bedroom. Max could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute, as he tried to control his breathing. 

“I know someone's in here! Come out with your hands up!” The voice was so familiar, but Max couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was one of Vanessa's obscure cousins. 

Then there was the all too well known sound of a gun being taken off safety. Max froze, as the voice drew closer, the door to the bedroom creaked open. The dark laundry basket was his only protection, he dared not even blink. 

“This is your last warning!” The voice was inches from Max, he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the impact of a bullet. Whoever it was must have noticed something, because they paused. Max could make out the shadow of a figure bending over and picking up the photos he had dropped on the floor in his panic. 

There was a faint, “oh no…” and then the fire cracked and popped. Whoever it was had destroyed the evidence. Max wanted to scream, that was his only evidence. Now someone for sure knew he was here. 

A phone rang, and the person answered it. 

“Hello? Yes, No. You are? Now? Someone is in the house, I think they saw them. The photos. Alright alright, I’ll be there.” The footsteps left the room, and he heard the front door reopen and close, then lock. 

Max waited several minutes to peek out, making sure he was truly alone. He finally felt himself let out a long-held breath.

Jumping out of the basket, he looked around the room. It was destroyed from his search. His only chance would be to make things as they were. If Sam found out he had been here, he would be in insane amounts of trouble.

He made sure to hastily refold the clothes, and arrange her organized clutter. It felt odd taking on a case without Sam, but it had to be done. He would be a one rabbit army, an unstoppable force. He would not let Sam ruin his life like this.

He carefully left the bedroom door slightly cracked, just as it was. Finding a back entrance, he scurried out onto the street, making sure to lock it from the inside before he left. 

He had to tell Sam, he wasn't going to believe this, it all added up. But just as he was calling his number, he came to a realization. There WAS no way he would believe Max. At this point it would just look like a plot to break them up. He had to find, evidence. Undeniable evidence. He had 4 days until the wedding, plenty of time. Until then, he would play it cool, but as soon as he had solid proof, he would end this marriage before it started.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam's day of job hunting was long and boring. He absolutely wanted nothing to do with divorce lawyers, refrigerator salesmen, or software engineers. But he submitted his resume to every boring company to please Vanessa, who by the end of the day, was all over Sam, praising him for being so responsible.

There was an endless flow of, “Your doing the right thing Sam.” and “I just know youll be so much happier Sam.” 

Finally finished, they headed out to eat at some uptown restaurant. The whole time, Vanessa's father was pelting him with questions he was not prepared for.

“You have pre-enrolled in one of the top preschools haven't you?” “You’ve of course booked a midwife by now?” “Why are you allowing her to eat celery, it will give the baby a third eye Sam you need to know these things!” 

Feeling quite overwhelmed, he blurted,

“Well, Mr. McCarthy, I didn't know about this until two days ago!”

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

“Well, if you aren't going to care for my daughter maybe I'll just revoke my blessing. It's your responsibility to know. This is all your fault anyways.”

Vanessa pouted. “No, daddy, don't be like that, I’ll make sure to keep Sam in line, we won't have another mishap like this in the future.”

Sam winced. “Mishap? You're calling my, our, child a… mishap?”

Vanessa was trying very hard not to roll her eyes, everyone could tell. 

“Well, it wasn't exactly on purpose, was it?” 

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

Picking at her food, Vanessa took a stern attitude all of a sudden. 

“Would you rather I call it a mistake?” 

Sam knew he had screwed up, he should have just kept his mouth shut. 

“I’m sorry, Vanessa. Of course not.” She smiled sweetly. “Well good, now that that’s settled, waiter! Check please!” 

She waved her hand in the air at a frustrated waiter, balancing several plates on his arms. Sam pulled out his wallet, prepared to pay as always, but she stopped him. 

“No, no, Sam, daddy is going to pay!” Sam let out a breath of relief, this was an expensive restaurant, and he didn't exactly want to empty his bank account, the bachelor party was tomorrow, and Vanessa had a whole plethora of rowdy cousins who were attending.

If he had anything to say about the matter, his “Bachelor Party” would just be a night in with a few friends. But Vanessa insisted that he make an all day affair of it. He was sure it would fine, as long as Max was there to spice things up. His little buddy had a way of making most things much more enjoyable.

As they left the restaurant and went their separate ways, Sam thought of Max. Would he even want to attend the bachelor party? He was always abrasive towards Vanessa, and it wouldn't be below him to not go out of spite. Sam really hoped that wasn't the case, the party would be boring without his little buddy. 

When he arrived at the apartment, Max was acting… odd. Friendly, and agreeable. Sam picked out a boring board game to play, instead of some obscure war game, and Max did not argue, or even make jokes. He just sat, smiling goofily at nothing. Sam was very afraid, it was not unlikely that Max had killed someone and hidden the body.

“So, Max, what did you do today?” 

Max shrugged. “Oh, you know, this and that, wandered around. Not much to do when you aren't around.” 

Sam paused, waiting to be punched on the arm, or insulted playfully. But Max just went back to concentrating on the board game. 

“Dammit, what are you hiding from me!” Max looked up at his friend. 

“Nothing, Sam, really. I'm just, so happy, that you made everything up with Vanessa.” A lie, and Sam knew it. 

“C’mon Max, you know you can tell me, anything.” Max chewed his lip for a moment, considering. 

“I know Sam, but I've got nothing to tell you.” Sam gasped.

“Who is she Max.” 

Max scoffed. “You must not know me at all to think I’d act any differently because of, a girl. I don't even like girls, or anyone for that matter. So just leave it be.” 

Sam sighed, moving his plastic gamepice forward a few spaces. 

“Alright fine. So, are you coming to the party tomorrow?” 

Max cocked his head. 

“Party?” 

“My bachelor party, Max! It's tomorrow, and I know it'll be a bore without you.” 

Maxs face went slightly pink. “Would Vanessa be okay with my cordial attendance?”

Sam chuckled.

“She won't have to know.”

Max rolled the dice, or rather, threw the dice against a wall and then scrambled under the table to see what he got.

“Well, then of course I’ll come. I want to throw quarters at strippers.”


	10. Chapter 10

The next day immediately began with festivities. Max woke up first, and shook Sam awake, presenting him with a custom tie he had written on in magic marker. It read simple, “The Bacheler”, next to a crude drawing of a ball and chain. Sam laughed, thanking Max for the gift.  
“You misspelled bachelor, though.”  
Max rolled his eyes. “Just accept it, doofus.”  
Sam wore it instead of his usual black and blue tie, with his normal outfit. Admiring it in the mirror, he told Max it was “The most valued tie in his collection” and Max’s chest puffed with pride.  
“Well, Sam, come on. I made breakfast too, but don't eat too much - if you don't eat all day you can get drunk way faster.” He lead Sam to a display of burnt waffles and basically raw eggs. Max had never had a knack for cooking, but Sam greatly appreciated the effort. He examined some “orange juice”, which was in reality, water with orange food dye in it.  
“Thank you so much, Max. What did I do to deserve all this? I'm getting married, not dying of some incurable ailment.”  
Max’s expression drooped ever so slightly. “Well... this is the last morning we’re gonna spend together in this apartment. After today you move in with Vanessa, right?” Sam frowned, he had almost forgotten.  
“Dag; you're right. But hey, I’ll make sure we’ll still see each other around. Maybe I’ll take a job right next to the office, if Van lets me.”  
Max looked at his feet for a moment, mustering up the courage to move on.  
“Alright, but today is not about worrying about that. Today is about fitting in everything on your Bachelor’s Bucket List before Vanessa's inbred cousins arrive. So, what's something you always wanted to do before you got hitched?”  
Sam tapped his chin, thinking. “Well, I've always wanted to get my Bachelor’s Degree, but I doubt we can do that in one afternoon.” Max smiled evilly.  
“Of course we can, Sam, it's just all about thinking outside of the box.”  
After taking a long walk to the other side of the city, they had arrived at a suitable location for what they needed to do.  
To be more clear, Max had a gun to the head of a librarian at a nearby community college.  
“I KNOW YOU HAVE THOSE DIPLOMAS IN YOUR DESK YOU BASTARD, NOW HAND EM OVER!”  
Max was clinging onto the poor scrawny man, knocking his glasses askew. The librarian was nervously trying to tell Max that he had no access to any sort of degrees, and that if he wanted one he would have to apply to the school. But Max was not taking no for an answer, much to his partners dismay.  
Sam winced, peeling Max off the poor frightened desk worker.  
“Max, I think I have a better idea. Terribly sorry sir.” He tugged a protestant Max over to a bulky computer at a desk, and typed “blank bachelor's degree printable pdf” into the search engine. It loaded devastatingly slow, but Sam found a suitable printout, good to hang in a frame in the office.  
When it printed, obnoxiously loud in the empty library, Sam signed his name on the line.  
“Annnnnd, there. Just like that, I’ve got a college education.” Max gave a long slow sarcastic one person applause.  
“Alright Sam, now what.” Sam held his certificate in the light, examining it thoroughly.  
“Well, I'd say I've always wanted to go on a single’s cruise.”  
Max tapped his foot, considering his options.  
“OH, I've got the perfect idea. Follow me!” He took Sam by the hand, and sprinted out of library, then the school onto the street. He made his way quickly towards the nearby port.  
Sam remembered this spot. A perfect view of Lady Liberty. It was where he came to be alone sometimes. The most notable occasion being after Max, his Max, though he hated the notion, had died. The air smelled of salt, and low hanging fog clouded their vision, making it hard to see. The humidity made Sam’s fur a little messier than usual, but he hardly cared. He was too busy wondering where his buddy was leading him. Max suddenly came to a screeching halt.  
“TA-DA!” He performed a dramatic flourish with his hands, gesturing to a mildewy sign reading “ferry rides, six dollars.”  
Sam smiled fondly at Max's spurt of creativity.  
“Perfect.” He announced, trotting towards the ferry, which was conveniently now loading a sparse amount of tourists with polaroid cameras, and gristly, embittered old men seeking old memories.  
A scruffy boat captain in a yellow rain jacket collected dollar bills from the passengers, including Sam and Max. They took a spot at the front of the boat, and Sam smiled as the vessel began to putt along towards Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty appearing out of the thick mist.  
The damp air felt good on his face, and he recognized how sweet the sight was and how cinematic this might have looked from afar.. This felt too much like a Titanic ripoff.  
“Sam, throw me.” Sam raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Max.  
“Are you insane, Max?” The rabbit looked back at Sam, straight in the eyes.  
“When have I ever not been?” Sam laughed, and hoisted his friend into the air above the boat.  
For a millisecond, Max saw the world. All of New York splayed out in front of him, blanketed in a layer of dewy fog, the sun weakly poking out from behind the clouds. He felt like flying, until he fell back down into Sam's arms.  
“HEY YOU, ARE YOU CRAZY?” The boat captain shouted. Sam and Max looked at each other and nervously chuckled, turning back to the ocean before them.  
“How's this for a single’s cruise Sam?” The dog didn't respond, he was completely encompassed in letting his tongue flap out of his mouth as the boat puttered past the island, making a sharp U-turn. Max smiled sincerely, he was really going to miss this.  
Once they were safely back on shore, Max taped his foot excitedly.  
“Alright Sam, this one was my idea, so close your eyes and follow me.” Sam’s heart beat quickly in his chest. This would either be illegal, or mind-blowingly amazing. Or a healthy 70/30 mix.  
He was lead on a whiplash inducing path throughout the city, completely blind. He could tell Max was whipping in and out of deserted alleyways, and definitely pushing past groups of slightly annoyed sidewalk travelers.  
“Max… are we … almost there?” He heard a maniacal giggle.  
“Almost.”  
There was the sound of a door opening, and a blast of acoustic music filled his ears. He was weaved through what he assumed were tables and chairs, and lead to a stool of some sort, where Max told him to sit down, but not open his eyes yet.  
Sam waited patiently and he heard Max scamper around the room that smelled of alcohol, fried food, and old bricks. “Alright Sam, you can look.” Sam opened his eyes, and let them adjust to the dim lighting. The first thing he noticed was the enormous pile of corn dogs, steaming in front of him.  
“Oh Max wow, these look delicious!” Max scoffed.  
“Look up, you big idiot.” He raised his eyes, and his ears perked excitedly.  
“MAX, it’s… its Riot of the Electric Blue Banjo. That's my FAVORITE BLUEGRASS BAND! How on Earth did you get them?!”  
Max held up a wagging finger.  
“Oh ho, that's not all. Hit it boys!” He pointed at the goateed man with an odd looking string instrument standing in front of the rag tag band. They started playing a rather poorly composed song, but Sams eyes lit up.  
“Holy jumping jitterbugs on a hot tin roof, Max, that’s… that’s MY SONG! The awful song I sang to audition for that recording contract!”  
Max nodded proudly, taking a stool next to Sam, who was excitedly leaning forward, applauding the band with extreme enthusiasm.  
“Max, this is the best gift anyone could have ever gotten me. I love it so much! Thank you!” Max shrugged.  
“It was nothing, enjoy your last taste of freedom.”  
\----  
Over the course of the next hour, Sam consumed almost 9 corn dogs, constantly tapping his foot to the beat of the band’s many bluegrass songs. After a while, Sam looked down at his watch.  
“Oh gosh, Max, we’re supposed to meet Vanessa cousins at some bar called O'Charley's real soon.”  
Max sighed..”Alright... but I really doubt they'll outdo me.”  
Sam smiled. “I know they won't, but I agreed to it just to be polite.”  
They walked together to a strange bar incredibly close to Manhattan, but situated in the Bronx. Vanessa's cousins had described it as “the sluttiest bar on the east coast”, not that he was impressed by that title. He planned to participate in the usual bachelor party type activities, but he was not going to waste some poor young lady’s time.  
They arrived, and opening the door, were met with exactly what the cousins had meant. This wasn't just a bar, it was a stripper bar, with scantily clad lady dancing on the tables, pouring drinks all over their nearly bare chests (which was a waste of perfectly good alcohol in Sam’s opinion.)  
The whole place was dimly lit, and the air was ridden with cigarette smoke. Sam was bombarded with a herd of already half-drunk college dropouts, many sharing Vanessa’s blazing ginger hair. Among them, Sam recognized Vanessa's cousin Eduardo, who was in charge of planning this whole get-together, even if he hardly knew Sam personally.  
“Saaam! Hey man! Who’s ready to get plastered and lead some whores on! WOOHOO!”  
Sam winced. “Um, me?”  
They all laughed simultaneously at Sam's resistance.  
“That's no attitude to have, dude, c'mon, I got us front row seats.”  
They yanked Sam away to a table in the corner, right below a blonde stripper in an erotic maid costume.  
“So, who’s the groom?” She asked, stepping down off the bar with a platter of shots. They all pointed to Sam, who looked away shyly.  
“Ah I see, well... take a shot, buddy, let’s get this started.”  
Sam didn't really want to drink any of this piss-tasting booze, but he took a shot just to avoid any questions. He cringed as he swallowed. It burned all the way down his throat.  
“So, um, let’s get what started?” She was pulling him up out of his chair.  
“A private lap dance, sweetheart.” Sam gulped, looking to Max for help. But his friend was much too busy frantically trying to order mozzarella sticks from a “sexy nurse” who just continued taking off her top, much to Max's despair.  
The stripper lead him behind a velvet curtain, to a room with a single chair. Sam cleared his throat.  
“Here, miss, just take this and rest for a bit. You must be exhausted and I honestly don’t want to take part in any of this. Is that okay?” The girl raised an eyebrow, taking a twenty dollar bill from Sam's hand.  
“I swear I won't tell.” Sam smiled warmly, and the girl thanked him, taking a moment to kick off her obviously uncomfortable stiletto heels.  
Sam waited a moment to come back out into the open with all the cousins, who were throwing their shots at a poor dancer, who was now dripping wet, her makeup running slightly. “Dance, you slut! This man’s getting married!” Someone shouted. Sam's eyebrows furrowed angrily.  
“You need to leave her alone, boys. She didn’t do anything to deserve you being so damn awful.” The dancer gave Sam a silent thank you look, and scurried off to another table. One of the taller cousins stood up.  
“What the hell man, why are you being such a prude?” Sam frowned.  
“It's my bachelor party isn't it? Leave her alone. Can we just go somewhere else?”  
The cousin scoffed. “Don’t you know anything? Strippers are the only way to go for a bachelor party. Literally all you have to do is just enjoy the tits and relax, dude.”  
Sam was steaming. “I’m not going to just ‘enjoy the tits and relax’. I don't want to be here! I'm fine with going to a normal bar, playing some pranks, maybe finding a bachelorette party and hooking you guys up with dates, but this is outrageous and classless. Now we go somewhere else, or I leave.”  
“Then leave!”  
Sam crossed his arms. “I will. Let’s go, Max. Max?”  
He looked around for his buddy, but he was nowhere to be found.  
“MAX?” He called out into the loud bar, but there was no response.  
Someone piped up. “The bunny went outside.”  
Stepping outside, Sam found Max sitting on the street curb. He sighed in relief, glad his little buddy had not been snatched up, or something of that matter.  
“You got a light?” The rabbit looked up, trying to put on his best “cool teen” face.  
“Max, you don't smoke.”  
Max smiled, showing all his teeth. “No, of course not. I just like to light gnats on fire and watch them crash and burn.”  
Sam laughed, happy to be in pleasant company again.  
“Those guys are all jerks; I just couldn't watch them treat those women like that.” Max nodded.  
“I treat all people like objects, and yet the drink throwing was simply out of line… unless it’s justified.” Sam sighed.  
“I just hope they forget to show up to the wedding. I can’t believe I’m going to have to call those animals family.” Max raised an eyebrow.  
“You do realize the irony of that statement, right?” They both laughed, enjoying being alone together.  
“Tomorrow, the real hell begins. My whole family is flying in, and Vanessa's Dad rented pretty much a whole hotel for everyone to stay in.”  
Max jumped up and down with excitement. “Your whole family, like, all of those manipulable little scamps who adore my rude humor and unpredictable personality?”  
Sam sighed again. “The same.”  
Max pumped his fist. “I am SO starting a cult with all those little ruffians.”  
Sam rubbed his neck nervously.  
“I’m just.... I’m just afraid of what they’ll think of Vanessa, and what she’ll think of them. They’ve never met each other. I hope some of my younger cousins don’t start teething on her shoes.”  
Max wanted so badly to say ‘good riddance’ but withheld the urge. Still, if a gang of old dogs and tiny puppies easily impressed by cooking shows and impromptu Jenga sessions didn’t like you, it’s kind of clear you’re awful.  
“I’m sure it will be fine Sam, now c’mon. I’m pretty sure tonight's 80s movie night on ABC and I have the maddening urge to view some mid-twenties Michael J. Fox.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited, please forgive the many inevitable errors :)

Sam and Max traveled together in the DeSoto to pick up Sam’s large family from the airport. Max suggested they rent a bus, but Sam had made the compelling argument that buses cost money that neither of them had, so everyone would have to squeeze into the DeSoto. Maybe some of the smaller kids could just hold onto the fender and run. 

They didn’t need a sign at the airport, it was quite easy to spot the large group of tall anthropomorphic dogs, all wandering aimlessly in a sort of pack. Sam waved above the crowd, and the first to spot him was his mother. A short, plump, sort of female version of Sam in an orange cardigan and blouse. 

“SAMMY!” She ran through the crowd away from the family, embracing Sam in a powerful hug, that was surprisingly close to knocking him over, considering her stature. 

“Oh, my little boy, so grown, look at you so handsome. Oh, dear I think I may cry.” She pulled out a frilly hanker and blew her nose, just as her husband, and Sam’s father approached. He was a wizened old man, with wrinkles around his eyes and gray on his muzzle. He wore a casual shirt sleeve button up and khakis, a basic Dad outfit. 

He shook Sam’s hand and patted him firmly on the shoulder. 

“How are you, son?” He looked over his small round spectacles at Sam, and then down at Max, who was being smothered in kisses by Sam’s mom. 

Just as Max was placed back on the ground gently, he was bombarded with a hoard of tiny puppies, all screaming, “MAX!”

Soon he was on the floor, laughing uncontrollably as the tiny puppies crawled all over him, taking on his ears and examining his toes. 

“Mr. Max, how come you’re so small?” “Uncle Max, um, how come your ears are so big? Can you hear China?” “Mr. Max! Mr. Max! Uh, how many bad guys have you beaten up?” 

There was not enough time in between each question for any kind of answer, so Max just responded by giving each and every one of them noogies.

Slowly, every member of Sam’s family made their way over, each carving out a moment to talk to Sam about the wedding. His older sister, who was holding a newborn child on her hip, asked him about the bride’s dress, while his senile uncle Chester asked him if he was still in the navy. 

His mother doted over Max while his aunt asked him if there was going to be enough potato salad, because she brought the ingredients to make some if she really needed to, if there isn’t potato salad, you aren’t really married. 

Finally, he spotted Granny Ruth amongst the crowd. She gave him a happy, grandmotherly smile. 

“Sam, darling, how are you?” She took his hands in hers, trying to read his thoughts through his eyes. 

“I’m doing just fine, Granny.” She nodded solemnly. 

“That’s very good, sweetheart.” She was then swept away by the literal hoards of dogs trying to talk to Sam all at once. It was going to be a nightmare getting them all into the car. Suddenly, an airport security guard approached them. 

“EXCUSE ME, CAN I HAVE ALL OF YOUR ATTENTION!?” Every head whirled around all at once. Granny Ruth tightened her grip on her purse, ready to knock someone out. 

“You people are causing a fire hazard. Please move outside as quickly as possible.” There was another round of grumbling and complaining, but everyone complied, slowly making their way towards the exit. 

It was a process packing everyone into the DeSoto, but somehow they managed. Max sat in the back seat with all of the children crawling all over his tiny body. He would swat them off, and they would all come right back. Sam’s second cousin Angelica was carefully applying purple lipstick in the mirror, and adjusting her fake nose ring. Sams uncles were getting into a particularly heated political argument. 

Sam put the address of the hotel into the GPS on his seldom-used phone. He would use his map, but his mother was currently changing a baby on the glovebox. The car seemed to scrape the road as they slowly made their way across town, overloaded with so much extra weight.

Finally arriving, Sam admired the building from the outside. It looked very classy, a three story bed and breakfast called the Sleepy Gardener. The whole family oohed and ahhhed, commenting on everything from the hedges to the window size. 

Once everyone was out of the DeSoto, which was likely going to need new tires after this whole shindig, they filed inside. Everyone wandered around the intricately decorated lobby. 

The room had that familiar hotel smell, but everything was much nicer than the run of the mill type of places Sam and Max would crash at on road trips and out of state cases. 

There was not one, but two upholstered couches, a tiny display case of pastries, a winding staircase leading to the residential area, and an almost concerning amount of perfectly dusted fake plants. 

The polished receptionist asked for their reservation name and Sam responded,

“We’re here for the McCarthy wedding.” 

Granny Ruth, who was milling around a nearby plastic bouquet raised an eyebrow. The receptionist pointed them to the second floor, cringing as she saw Max and a group of children sliding down the banister on the twisty staircase.

Just as Sam was herding everyone up the stairs to their rooms, he spotted Vanessa, leaning on a balcony overlooking the third floor.

“So, these people are your family?” She called, her voice echoing terribly. Sam nodded. 

“We’re quite a large brood!” 

She drummed her fingers on the railing.

“I see that, Sam. I do hope we have room for them all at dinner.” 

Granny Ruth looked up to see Vanessa and furrowed her eyebrows. Sam must have noticed, because he introduced the two. 

“Vanessa, this is Granny Ruth; Granny Ruth this is Vanessa, my fiancé.” 

Ruth held out her hand to shake, and Vanessa tenderly took one finger, shaking it slowly. Granny Ruth sighed quietly. 

“Sam, dear, could you be an absolute doll and help Granny figure out this pesky air conditioner in her room? I can never get the darned things working.” 

Sam nodded, and trotted off towards her bedroom with his grandmother in tow. Once in the room, she shut the door, and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to her. Sam sat down, somewhat confused.

“You like her, yes?” Sam nodded.

“Yes I do.” She put a hand over his. 

“Well that is wonderful, dear, she’s not very much like you though, is she now?” 

“We have our differences.” Sam responded. 

“Yes, yes of course, I just pray you two are really, truly in love.” Sam caught himself hesitating.

“Oh, yes, Granny, we are.” She smiled sweetly.

“How is Maxwell dear?” Sam didn’t bother to tell her that Max’s actual name was Maximillian. 

“Max is just great. He gave me the best bachelor party gift the other day. He really led me to an amazing restaurant where he got my favorite band to play a song I wrote.” Granny Ruth nodded, her eyes landing on Sams.

“He’s such a good boy. You two have always been thick as thieves, always together, always laughing and joking. If only.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. 

“If only what, Granny?” She sighed.

“Nothing, I’m just.... remembering. Oh gosh, do you recall that time Max got the pox, and you went to see him every day to read your picture books to him? Your mother SUCH threw a fit saying you’d catch it too. But that didn’t stop you. You’ve always been such a caring boy. What a shame.” 

Sam stood up slowly.

“Granny, what’s a shame?” She shook her head. 

“Nothing, sweetheart. You’d better get to handling your guests. Your nieces have most definitely stolen Maxwell off by now, I’d keep an eye on him. Make sure they don’t sacrifice him to a blood god. Or make him a blood god.” Sam caught the familiar twinkle in his grandmother's eyes. She was up to something. 

Surely enough, Granny Ruth was right about one thing, his nieces did indeed tie Max up in their room, and were questioning him with the intensity of CIA agents.

“MAX, what do you use to wash your fur it’s so soft?!” One girl asked, stroking his ears. 

“I don’t.” He responded.

“Um... Max how come... your teeth are so big?” “To chomp on little feet!” He snapped playfully like a bear trap at the girls. 

“Mr Max, um, why... is the sky blue?” Max paused for a moment, trying to think of a witty response. But Sam interrupted.

“Girls, I think it’s time to untie Max alright.” There was a collective, “awwwwww” as Sam bent down to untie his friend. 

“But SAMMMMM we were just about to start dripping hot wax on him!” 

 

Max groaned. “OOH GOD SAM, WAX, CMON TIE ME BACK!” Sam sighed, shaking his head. 

“Come on Max, everyone is meeting in the dining room to mingle, I’ve gotta monitor everyone, if you leave my Aunt Sally alone with a man she’s not related to for more than 6 minutes, she will get pregnant.” 

Max, now freed from his bindings, headed with Sam down the the dining room. Both families were there, separated into small groups chatting. The moms and most of the aunts were in a cluster, as were the dads and uncles, and all the teenage cousins. Sam dropped by a few of the groups, listening in on conversations. 

First, was the mother’s and aunts.   
“Oh dear, Mrs McCarthy, you mean to tell me you haven’t made a single homemade starch based dish for the wedding? I made mine 4 days in advance so I could let the potatoes ferment.” Vanessa’s mother rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t cook, that’s what chefs are for. We are catering the wedding. You never know what’s in those homemade dishes.” Sam's mother crossed her arms. If there was anything she was serious about, it was homemade pasta based meals. 

“Well darling how can you trust anything a caterer makes. Are you saying you trust a caterer more than your own family?” Vanessa’s mother crossed her arms as well. 

“Step family.” 

Sam cringed slightly, and moved onto the dads and uncles. His uncle Stanley was arguing heatedly with Vanessa’s Dad about barbecuing. Mr McCarthy was completely on the side of always cooking veal, or veggie burgers, whilst Stanley insisted on only hamburgers and hot dogs.

Sam was going to interject, but decided he like having two functioning legs. 

Looking over to the group of teens, his cousin Angela had her tongue halfway down Vanessa’s younger brothers throat. Sam rushed over, pulling them apart. 

“GUYS, you two are COUSINS!” He shouted. 

“Step cousins.” Replied Vanessa’s brother.

“GUYS!” Sam was rubbing his temples in frustration.

“I... I can’t deal with this right now.... I’ll... see you all at dinner.” 

He speed walked down the hallway to his room, unlocked the door, and went inside. Max watched him go, considering running after him, but Sam’s Granny Ruth grabbed him by the arm. 

“Maxwell, can we have a little chat?” She whispered into his ear. 

“Um, Mrs Ruth it's actually Maximillion…” 

Granny Ruth payed little mind to his correction, She was busy tugging him to a private corner of the room. 

“Yes yes of course, now Maxwell, I’m sure you know of Sams fiance.” Max rolled his eyes. 

“Unfortunately.” 

Granny Ruth raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? You don't like her I suppose?” Max shook his head.

“She's a bitch, and, I have my other suspicions as well.” 

Granny Ruth crossed her arms knowingly. 

“Smart boy, I can smell guilt, and she reeks of it.”

Max smiled devilishly. 

“Would you like to oblige in I don't know, slashing her tires with me?” 

Granny Ruth smiled. “Not today Max, I think, you need to have a chat with Sam.” 

Max looked at his feet, shyly. “He's made up his mind Mrs Ruth. There's nothing I can do.” 

Granny Ruth sighed. 

“Maxwell, I think there's a lot more that you can do than you think.” 

Max looked at her, confused. “You think so?” 

She nodded. “I know so, just go talk to him Max.”

He smiled. “I will. Thank you.” 

She tapped the side of her nose. “A grandmother always knows.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember what I said about the last one being unedited? Yeah multiply that by 12. Sorry :)

Max found Sam leaning on the railing of the balcony outside of his room, staring out at the manicured lawn beneath them. The sun was setting, leaving the horizon a painting of red orange and purple. 

“Sam? The large dog whirled around.

“Max? What are you doing here?” 

His coat was hung over the balcony, and his tie was loosened. God, Sam looking like this, the top button undone on his crisp white shirt, his hair mussed from running his hands through it over and over, it was all too tempting.

“Not yet” He told himself. “Soon, but not yet.” 

He would tell him when he found the evidence, the undeniable evidence. He was going to get the evidence, right? But what if he really couldn’t stop this wedding? What if he failed?

What if... he lost Sam?

Shaking off the notion, Max walked over next to Sam, putting his elbows on the railing and his head in his hands. “I just, came up here to talk to you.” Sams ears perked adorably.“Oh really? About what?” Max paused, thinking of something to say. “Well... for starters, I’m really going to miss your awful banjo playing. And your novelty stamp collection. And ALL the dog hair.”“Don’t worry, little buddy. The dog hair accumulates. It’ll still be there for years.” Max smiled, feeling guilty, Sam was already clearly stressed, but he couldn’t hold it all in. “But also, about... about all this. The wedding, Vanessa, you just seem... unhappy.” Sam turned back to the lawn, frowning slightly. “I’m stressed that’s all.” Max scowled. “That’s just it, it’s not the wedding, it’s... it’s her.” Max bit his lip, he was going to say too much, he was never one for self control. Sam turned back to Max, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” Max pushed back the urge to shake Sam, how did he not see the obvious. “She’s, she’s awful Sam, to you, to your family, to me.” Sam sighed sadly. “I know. I know she is. I really didn’t want to do this, but to just abandon her, alone and pregnant with my baby, I’m not a monster.” Max turned away, trying to hide his sad expression. What if Sam didn't care about the skeletons in her closet? Max wanted to do everything but break Sams heart. This was going to be hard. “I think she did it on purpose. Got pregnant I mean. It’s just too convenient.” Sam placed a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder. “Max, please, I don’t want to do this with you right now.” Max backed off slightly, if he got worked up, he knew he would let his secret slip. He never kept secrets from Sam, ever. Well except one. One he had been keeping for pushing thirty years, but that didn't really count. “I’m sorry Sam, I suppose I'm just afraid that you'll forget about me, leave me, and that's the last thing I want.” “Max, believe me when I tell you, I’d rather spend time with you than anyone else.” Max felt his face heat up, as he looked away, crossing his arms. “You... you mean that?” Sam nodded. “Of course I mean that Max. It’s just, Vanessa isn’t exactly your biggest fan, and I didn’t want to put her on edge. God, I really hope she doesn't keep us apart, I don’t think I’d be able to stay sane.” Max hugged Sam around the waist. “If she thinks she can keep me away, shes sadly mistaken. I've mapped out the air vents in her house, you'll never see me coming.” Sam laughed heartily. “You see, this is what I'll miss, no one cracks me up like you little buddy.” Max smiled at the compliment. Nobody could make Max smile the way Sam could. “Max, I have a crazy idea, lets go, lets just get in the car and drive, somewhere far away, I don't care where…” Max smiled, but came to his senses. “Sam, you're not thinking clearly, we can just run away together, even I can see that. You are going to be married tomorrow.” “Oh when have you been one to be rational Max, cmon, I don't wanna do this, I can't do this, I can't get married, I'm going to be a horrible dad anyway, please Max lets go.” Sam was spiraling, Max could tell. “Oh god what if I have a daughter, what if i'm a horrible role model and she turns to prostitution and drugs because of me. Or worse yet, a son, who can’t look up to me so he leads a life of crime and rebellion. I could ruin a person's life, I’m so scared Max, I… I don't know what to do, and I hate not knowing what to do. You know that.” Max had to reign in every ounce of self control to not completely disregard Sams situation and run away with him to tihuana, where the weather was warm and the police force corrupt. But he knew better, for once, he had to be the rational one. “Sam, don't be that way, you're going to be a great dad.” Sam chuckled quietly. “Max, I really can't do this.” Max smiled sadly. “Of course you can Sam, if anyone could be a super husband, it would be you.” He wished he could tell him that he COULD be a super husband, if he was indeed Max’s husband. Sam sighed. “I'm going to miss you Max, really. You know that don’t you?” Max nodded. “Of course Sam, what's not to miss, I’m kind of amazing.” Sam laughed. “You're right.” Max went inside the hotel room and took two of the eight dollar fizzy colas out of the mini fridge, then handed one to Sam and kept one for himself. “I'm not going to pay for these. Yes I suppose you could call me a modern day Robin Hood.” Max stated, trying to lighten the mood. Sam sighed and sat down his can. “Do you think I should talk to Sybil? She's a parent, and I think she's learned a lot from mommy blogs. “ Max rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure, if you want the fruit of your loins to turn out to be a spineless sheltered coward. If I'm ever stupid enough to invest in children, im going to have 14 at a time and lower them all into a pit. Only the strongest may emerge and call me father.” Sam snorted. “You should write a mommy blog Max, great advice.” Max enjoyed that he could cheer Sam up like this, but as the sky around them darkened, the scene took a more serious mood. “Max, do you think I'm making a mistake?” Max visibly tensed. He wanted so badly to say yes, but not yet, not until he had more proof. “Who am I to say Sam.” They went silent, staring into the night. “Sure are some stars out tonight.” Max laughed. “You are too cheesy, stars, psh, you mean burning balls of hydrogen gas that will inevitably explode eradicating all life in its path, but sure, they do have a charming twinkle.” The moment would have been perfect for a confession, but it would have been in bad taste. Max had to wait until the moment was exactly right. Apparently Sam didn't share this notion, because he took Maxs hand, saying nothing. Max didn't resist, but also didn't squeeze his hand back as hard as he wanted too. Their bodies were uncomfortable, amazingly close. Max could feel Sams comforting, warm presence. They were outside. How could the air be so stuffy outside? And when had it gotten so hot?  
Max noticed when Sam tensed up again, and he noticed when Sam’s ears flushed, and he definitely noticed that Sam was leaning in. Sam was leaning in. Thoughts buzzed in Max’s brain. Most of them were excitement. Some of them were just screaming. One of them was telling Max that he couldn’t kiss Sam. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, because god. He really wanted to. But... it either comes down to Max outing Vanessa as a criminal or Sam getting married tomorrow. Unless Max could wrap up this case with the evidence he needed, he would either hurt Sam for a moment or hurt him for a long time.

...Moment it is.

“I-I should go. Get some rest, Sam. Your... your big day is tomorrow.” Max turned away suddenly and smiled sheepishly. He tried to pretend he couldn’t feel his heart clenching in his chest. What would he have to do to keep that thing from repeatedly acting up?!

 

As Max left, Sam sat alone on the balcony, assessing what had happened. He wasn’t entirely sure. He realized how cold and alone he felt without Max there, the energy seemed to be sucked out of the air, and his heart was left feeling cold and dry. He realized how exhausted he was, it had been a long day. His wedding was, tomorrow. It would all be over, tomorrow. The thought of not seeing Max every day made him feel sick to his stomach. Max could be a handful, but the good kind of handful that kept Sams mind from wandering. Sitting down on the edge of his bed he wondered if he should go see Vanessa, he really didn’t want to talk to her, but he figured he should. He would have to take a nap first, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her the day before their wedding, who knows what she would do. So he laid down, still in his clothes, and closed his eyes, trying to push down all the confusing feeling swirling around in his busy, buzzing mind. 

Max had an undeniable determination about him as he strutted out into the hallway. He was going to figure this out, and bring Vanessa to her knees. He had never worked alone before, but he was confident in his ability. It was just about finding the perfect evidence. Speaking of the devil, Max felt someone grab his arm, and yank him into a room, slamming the door. It was Vanessa, and her eyes were boring a hole in Max’s skull. “You've made a big, big mistake buddy.” Max frowned, confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” She grabbed his shoulders, her french manicured nails digging into his back. “Don't think I didn't see you coming out of Sam's room, now did you?” She shoved him roughly. “Well I am going to ask you, to scram. If I see you around here, or the wedding again, I am going to make sure, you and your pathetic little crush, never see each other again.” Max made a sort of growling noise. “What do you think you’re talking about? I will get my partner back.” She smiled devilishly. “Oh you’re adorable little bunny, you think I don’t know.” Max shoved her back. “Think you don’t know WHAT?” Vanessa picked up a framed photo of Sam, examining it very carefully. “About your feelings for my fiance. I know you love him, you honestly couldn’t have made it more obvious. I’m SURE he knows, if he loved you back, he would have said so by now. But he doesn’t love you, no, he loves me, or at least he thinks he does. He’s going to disappear from your life, and eventually he’ll forget you, leave you behind without so much as a goodbye.” Max felt hot anger build up in his veins. He had already thought all of these things to himself, but hearing them out loud made him want to sink his sharp teeth into Vanessa’s head. “We’ll see how much he loves you after I find out what you’ve done.” Vanessa crossed her arms smugly. “I have no idea what youre talking about.” “Oh you just try and stop me, you awful witch of a woman.” She bared her teeth, in an animalistic display of anger. “I told you, to scram...Max.” He opened the door slowly behind him. “I’ll be back, right after I figure out what you’re up to. You can’t hide forever.” Her eyes darted nervously. “You're crazy.” He smiled in his farmilior devilish manor. “Yes dear, yes I am. Clinically so.”


	13. The Last Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, finally the end. It’s been fun. :)

Sam didn’t wake up from his “nap” until the next morning. His wedding day. Blinking in the early morning sun, shining through his curtains, he spotted his clean suite, the one he and Max had picked out together. It took a lot off argueing, but Vanessa finally gave in, allowng him to wear it. 

 

He couldn’t help but feel doubt, stirring in his stomach. Dread, of what was to come. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he wondered if this would be the kind of marriage that drags on forever, with neither person ever satisfied. He thought those kinds of relationships were only in movies, but apparently not.

Looking for reassurance that he was doing the right thing he padded down the hallway to Vanessa’s room, he had a feeling that Vanessa would be a good advocate for her own wedding. He gingerly knocked on the door, and waited for her answer. There was a brief moment before she responded. 

“Come in!” Her voice was more chipper than usual. Odd. He opened the door to see Vanessa, laid out daintily on her hotel bed, smiling at him. 

“What’s all this about?” Sam was more than a little confused, Vanessa was never one to try and impress Sam, in fact it was usually quite the opposite. 

“Oh what, is it a crime for a bride to want to look good for her groom?” Her way of speaking was dripping with sweetness, in a way that made Sam nervous. 

 

“I just knew you’d stop by, you’re nervous aren’t you? So am I. Don’t worry about it, everyone always is before their wedding. But I think I have an idea to help you work up your nerve.” She patted the bed next to her, smiling warmly. 

“Alright so, I want you to list 10 reasons you love me. I’m sure there are many, but for now let's stick to a mere 10. Then I’ll list some for you, sound good?” She put a small hand on his shoulder, looking deeply, sincerely into his eyes. Sam thought for a moment.

“Well, first of all, I love…” Embarrassed, he scrambled his brain trying to think of something he truly, really loved about Vanessa. If he was being honest, not much, but he couldn’t ever say that out loud, so he made something up. 

“Your smile, oh, your sense of humor, your loveable demeanor...” As he thought more about it, he wasn’t describing Vanessa at all, just empty lies to fill the space he told himself. But something about all of these qualities was ringing a bell.

“I think my favorite thing about you is your beautiful brown eyes.” Vanessa’s proud smile melted off her face just as fast as it had appeared. 

“Brown eyes?” She questioned, anger building up in her previously sugary sweet voice. Sam frantically tried to think of what was so wrong with complimenting her eyes color, that is, until he looked at them more closely. Vanessa’s eyes were green. Max. Max’s eyes were brown. 

A wave of realization washed over him, all at once. The feelings he had suppressed, brushed off, for so long, all came to him in a powerful wave. He didn’t love Vanessa, he had known that for a while. But now he knew for sure who he did love. Max. His partner, his best friend, his comrade, companion, and most trusted ally. Loyally at his side for so many years, fighting crime when they were called to service, laughing when it was funny, and crying when it was sad. He remembered how he had felt as people watched him slowly walk by on the sidewalk after he heard that Max died. He remembered the crippling, heart stopping pain, and then the rejubilation when they were reunited.   
It all made sense now, but what was there to do now. Nothing. It was too late now. He had only a few hours before he would be a married man, and less than a year before he was a father. He had simply waited too long, there was no way he could be with anyone other than Vanessa now. Unless…

“Vanessa, darling I apologize, I have a lot on my mind. Would you happen to know where Max… the bunny… went? I may need to speak with him.” Vanessa visibly tensed, the paused, thinking.

“Oh, in fact, I do believe I saw him, in the Desoto, driving away from here.” Sams heart fell to his feet. His only hope, driving far away, maybe never to be seen again. 

“Yes yes, he said something about, you, and not wanting to come to the wedding in fact. He seemed quite upset.” Sam rubbed his hand over his face. Had he said something? Done something? Max wasn’t the kind to just storm off like that, there was something seriously wrong. 

He then remembered what he hadn’t entirely realized he had done on the balcony. Oh god, he had leaned in, subconsciously, but nonetheless, it must have been enough to scare Max off.

“Oh darling, don’t be too upset, i’m sure it’s nothing YOU did, he would have messed up the reception anyways.” Vanessa cooed, batting her eyelashes. But Sam ignored her, he couldn’t just have Max dip out on his wedding, realization or not, he wanted him to be there. 

After a tense moment, Vanessa stood, and pushed Sam towards the door. Saying something about how he couldn’t see her in her dress. The door slammed behind him, and he was left alone in the hallway. It was too early for most of the guests to be awake, so the hotel was deafeningly quiet. Sam decided to wander the corridors, thinking to himself. 

A man of less integrity might have just suggested that Sam should just leave, and left Vanessa standing at the altar, but he could never bring himself to do that. He imagined what people would say if he left his pregnant fiance alone on her wedding day, left to the mercy of both of their families. It was almost unthinkable. 

If Max was here, he would have known what to say, what to do. Or he would at least have something to say to encourage Sam, or make him laugh. But Max was gone, he might be forever. 

Sam found himself back at his room, staring out a window. There was nothing that could be done now. It wasn’t like he was forced to do all this. He was the one that proposed. Maybe it was because Vanessa was such a safe, risk free option, or maybe it he had just not been thinking. Either way, he was truly the only one to blame. 

Putting on his suit and looking in the mirror, Sam didn't feel as confident as he had in the store, when Max was with him. He remembered that day differently now, the look max had given him when he stepped out of the dressing room meant something more now.

A few hours seemed to fly by, and before anyone knew it, it was time for the wedding. Families were making their way down the few blocks to the big, ancient church where the ceremony was to be held. Sam got there a bit before everyone else, and took a moment to examine his surroundings. 

Old wooden church pews stood lined up like soldiers on either side of the church, decorated with silk bows and bouquets of purple and blue flowers. The floor was ancient and it made a loud creak with each step, the floorboards bending slightly under Sam’s feet. The whole building smelled of dust and old lady perfume. 

Wandering the aisle alone felt strange, something about being the only one in a church was uncomfortable, even when everything was decorated intricately. He should be happy. Should be. If this was going to be the happiest day of his life, he was in for one sad existence. 

People started filing in, chatting amongst themselves. Sam’s father was comforting Sam's mother, who was crying daintily, dabbing at her eyes. Sam really wished she wouldn't, it was making him feel worse about all this. He took his place at the altar next to the officiant, Sybil, who had recently gotten her priests licence as a part of her newest occupation, exotic plant christener. She smiled warmly at Sam, but there was a trace of pity in her eyes, as if she knew what was eating Sam from the inside. 

Sam felt alone in this room packed with happy people, the spot left for his best man, Max, was empty. He had argued heatedly with Vanessa to allow Max to be the best man, and now he wasn't even here. What a waste. 

Everyone's murmuring went silent as an elderly pianist began to play ‘Here Comes the Bride” on a dusty piano.The back doors opened and there was Vanessa, standing proudly, her arm hooked in her fathers. She was beaming, almost glowing in her beautiful white dress, fitted at the bust, and flared out in a ballgown shape at her waist. She didn't wear a veil, she had been adamant about that, she wanted everyone to see her face as she walked down the aisle. 

As she started to slowly make her way in between the rows of pews, her train following behind her, everyone's heads turned to get a look at her. Her eyes though, were locked on Sam, there was a glint of determination in them. This was happening whether he liked it or not. 

She had no flower girls, though many of Sam’s cousins had begged and pleaded. Sam remembered her saying that they would ‘only take the attention away from her.’

Her father handed her off, hugging her gently, then giving Sam a disgusted look as he went to his seat. The bride and groom were facing each other, one looking into the others eyes, and Vanessa reached for Sam's hand, but he pulled it away, turning to look at Sybil, who had cracked open her book of wedding vows and began to read. 

“Dearly beloved,” Someone muttered something about Prince in the audience, earning a glare from Sybil. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union, of this couple, Samuel and Vanessa McCarthy.”Sam didn't remember agreeing to take Vanessa's last name, but he didn't really have room to argue, so he stayed quiet. 

“If I may have the rings…” One of Sam’s tiny cousins, Sarah, ran up the aisle, holding a pillow with the two rings placed gently on top. Sam smiled at her enthusiasm as she approached the couple, presenting the rings with a bow. 

“Are you a princess?” She whispered to Vanessa, who just sneered. 

“Everyone dresses like this for their wedding, don't you know that?” Sarah frowned, and scampered back to her seat.   
“Now, Vanessa, with this ring, do you take Sam as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" 

“I do.” Vanessa said enthusiastically, smiling eagerly at sam as she slid the ring onto his finger. He examined it, it felt odd and out of place, just like him. 

“And Sam, with this ring, do you take Vanessa as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" 

He hesitated, a million thoughts whirring in his brain. Could he say no? Has anyone ever said no? 

“I… I do.” He put the ring on her tiny finger, and she took the opportunity to grab his hands and hold them in place. 

There was a tension in the air as Sybil flipped the page of her notebook, and read the next sentence. 

“Now, you may read your prepared vows.” Sybil looked first to Vanessa, who pulled out a clean piece of paper, and started to read. 

“Samuel, on this day, we shall be married, and I look forward to the many, many years to come. If someone told me six months ago that i'd be marrying someone like you, I would have laughed, but now, my perspective has changed. No longer are you Sam, the freelance policeman, but Samuel McCarthy, my lawfully wedded husband.” 

There was a pause as Sam took in her words. No longer a freelance policeman, the thought made him want to throw up all over Vanessa’s expensive white dress. 

Producing a crumpled sheet of paper from his coat pocket, Sam began ro read his vows. He wished he hadn't waited until the night before to write it, the words were superficial and shallow. 

“Vanessa, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one.” A lie. 

“And I cannot wait to raise a family with you.” Another lie. 

“And I would rather be with no one else, until the day I die.” He felt shame building up in his stomach, even if he was not indeed in love with her, he was lying to Vanessa, and no good relationship is built on lies and mistrust. He wondered if in ten years he’d be the kind of sleazy cheating husband that were portrayed in the first thirty minutes of rom coms. 

Sybil smiled nervously at the couple, closing her notebook. 

“Well with that, Sam, you may kiss the bride.” 

Sam wanted nothing more than to pull away, run. He did not want to kiss her, he'd rather, as a matter of fact, kiss a tuberculosis patient. But she was leaning in,. Eyes closed and lips puckered, reaching fo Sam, so he really had no option. He squeezed his eyes shut, he watched the decades flash by behind his eyelids. Max and him sitting in the park at sunset, them fighting crime on their own terms, telling jokes, watching movies. One memory went by a little slower than the rest. Just last night on the balcony, looking into Max’s eyes, realizing what he really wanted. If only he hadn't been so blind. His real, true love, as cheesy as that sounds, had driven away, and he was left in misery. 

Just as their lips were about to touch, there was the sound of the church door slamming open, and a voice, crying “WAIT!” 

Max, it was Max’s voice. Sam's eyes shot open, and he yanked his head away from Vanessa, looking to see his little buddy, standing proudly in the doorway, a large sack in hand. 

“THIS WOMAN IS NOT WHO SHE SAYS SHE IS!” 

Vanessa was reaching desperately for Sam as a loud chatter erupted amongst the church pews. But he stepped away, facing Max. 

“Max, what are you talking about?” Sam tried to hide the excitement in his voice, but it wasn't working. 

“Sam… that woman, is the jewel thief, and you are not the father of her baby!” 

There was a collective gasp from the guests, and they all turned to face Vanesa, who was backing up nervously. 

“He’s insane, I have no idea what he’s talking about…” Max raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh insane am I, then how do explain why these were packed in the trunk outside?!” 

He dumped out the sack he was holding, and jewelry, diamonds rubies emeralds, all tumbled out onto the floor in a loud clatter. One loose jewel rolled over the slanted floor, stopping at Sams feet. He picked it up.

“Vanessa, is this true?” Sam looked a little hurt, he did not like being lied to. She stomped her foot angrily.

“NO! Of course it isn't! He framed me, of course he did, why would you have any reason to believe him?” 

Sam looked at here, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. 

“Why would I have any reason to believe you?”

“Because I am your fiance, no, your WIFE!” She screamed, her small hands clenched into fists at her side. 

“No, not anymore.” Sam crossed his arms, looking down his nose sternly at her. Sybil cleared her throat, in an attempt to catch everyone's attention. 

“Excuse me, but if Sam is not the father of her baby, then who is?” Max’s eyes took on that devilish glint. He was about to say something shocking. 

“Why, no other than COUSIN EDUARDO!” There was another gasp, and everyone turned to face the cousin. 

“Me?” He pointed to himself, confused. 

“YES, this woman is guilty of incest, and I have the ultrasounds to prove it. I found them in her suitcase, only close incest could produce a baby this monstrous!” He whipped out an ultrasound photo of a horrifically ugly baby, showing it to the crowd. 

“Sam, please, believe me, that baby is yours, don't you remember, the night we met? After the bar?” She was clinging to Sam’s collar, desperately trying to convince him. 

“Yes another lie, Sam, I followed you two that night, you never slept together.” Max put his hands on his hips, proud of himself. Cousin Eduardo had pulled out a flask and was drinking with almost enviable gusto. 

Suddenly, someone stood up in the last pew of the church. 

“I will lie for you no longer my sweet, twas I, HARRY MOLEMAN, who impregnated the blushing bride. She was swept off her feet, the ladies can't help themself around my enormous, OBOE!” 

Vanessa whipped around to face Harry. 

“How could you DO THIS TO ME HARRY! It was all in place, we could have run away together with all of our riches, Harry, my beloved, why have you had to ruin our happy future, our baby’s future!” 

Sam felt himself gag a bit. That explains the baby’s unfortunate appearance. 

“A CONFESSION!” Max shouted, smiling widely. 

Coming up behind his fiance, now ex fiance, Sam clapped a pair of cuffs on Vanessa's wrists. 

“You madam, are under arrest for grand theft. You have the right to remain silent, the right to one phone call…”

“The right to my FOOT up your ass!” Max rushed forward, relishing in his moment of glory. 

“You'll never hold me, I can't go to jail, I'M TOO PRETTY!” 

“Tell it to the judge lady.” Sam smiled at her, but not in a sweet way. In an, ‘I just figured out you horrible secret and now you're going to jail’ kind of way. 

He was free at last.   
Walking back inside after cuffing Vanessa to the Desoto, Sam was confronted with a hoard of confused, angry wedding goers. Bridesmaids were griping about thousands of dollars wasted on hairdressers and makeup. Groomsmen were arranging a visit to a nearby pub, and Sam's mother was wailing pitifully into his Father's arms. Granny ruth on the other hand, rushed up and hugged Sam.

“Oh my sweet Sam, I'm so glad you didnt end up with her, I knew there was something about that girl.” She then smiled and ruffled Max’s ears. 

“And you, I knew you would come through in the end. Such a smart boy.” Max placed his hands on his hips, beaming proudly. 

“Well, I'll leave you two alone to talk.” She smiled mischievously as she walked away to console Sam's mother. 

Sam and Max were left staring at each other in the doorway of the church, feeling so alone together, as if they were by themselves back in the office. 

“Sam?” Max’s face was going flush, just slightly. He looked sheepishly up at his partner.   
“Yes little buddy?” Sam could almost feel what was coming, his gut was screaming at him. 

“I think you can continue what you were going for last night, now that you're a bachelor again.” 

Knowing exactly what he meant as always,. Sam scooped Max up in his arms, smashing his lips clumsily to Maxs mouth. 

Max smiled through the kiss. Sam smelled warm, like his cologne and butterscotch candy. He put his small hands up to Sam's face, pulling him in further. Neither of them wanted to pull apart until they both desperately needed air. 

“Holy salmon jumping up the Roanoke River Max!” Sams ears perked adorably, as he blinked in surprise. 

“What can I say, I guess I've been waiting for that for a lifetime.” Max remarked, as he took Sam's hand in his, intertwining their fingers. 

“What do you say we take this one off to prison?” Sam gestured to Vanessa,. Who was kicking her high heels into the Desoto, attempting to leave dents. Harry Moleman came running to the door, wiping away tears from his eyes with a filthy hankee. 

“NO, MY LOVE!” He reached for Vanessa, but was tackled by Max, who held him down on the sidewalk. 

“Load em up Max!” Sam shouted, watching Max shove the two miscreants into the backseat of the car. The sun hung high in the sky, it seemed a little brighter now. 

“You comin Sam? I want you to watch the hope drain from their faces as they are locked up for many many years of agonizing solitude!” Max looked back over his shoulder, giving Sam that familiar smile. 

“You crack me up little buddy


End file.
